The incident had rendered us more cautious, and we proceeded through the wood carefully, keeping a sharp lookout and listening intently; but the mysterious man had vanished so completely that I began to wonder if Casimir had not been a victim of his imagination.

From the wood we turned into the highroad, and after travelling steadily for nearly three hours halted at a wayside inn.  For myself I wished to push on, and Jacques was equally impatient, but our guide complained that his horse was tired and needed a rest.

“’Twould be folly to risk foundering a valuable animal for the sake of getting to a place before one is wanted there,” said he, laughing as if he had made some humorous remark.  But laughter was not Casimir’s strong point, and he made a sorry business of it.

However, since we were entirely in his hands, he had his way, and much precious time was wasted.

“It will take us three days at this rate to reach Poictiers,” grumbled Jacques, as we resumed the journey.

“We shall be there as soon as we are expected,” returned Casimir, who seemed to have a fresh fit of sullenness, which increased rather than lessened as we proceeded.

About five miles from our stopping-place, two horsemen overtook us.  They were cantering briskly along, but drew rein to bid us good-day.

“Are you for Poictiers?” asked one of them pleasantly, but before I had time to reply our guide broke in roughly: 

“We are going where we please.  The highroad is free to all, I suppose!”

“Certainly, friend, and I doubt if many travellers would care to share it with you.  A civil question is worth a civil answer.”

“Our business is our own,” muttered Casimir, “and we are able to look after it.”

The horseman who had first spoken was on the point of making an angry reply, but his companion exclaimed with a laugh, “Let the boor alone to do his business; by the look of his face ’twill bring him pretty close to the hangman’s rope!” and, taking no further notice of us, they galloped on.

“By my faith, Casimir,” I exclaimed hotly, “your Parisian manners are not of the pleasantest.  I could wish that your patron had employed a less boorish messenger.”

“See here, monsieur,” said he, “there is no need for us to quarrel, but I don’t intend losing my life on your account, and it’s plain there is some one who bears you no goodwill.  How do I know who these travellers are?  They may belong to the same gang that shot at me in the wood!”

“Well,” I returned rather scornfully, “since you are so fearful of being in my company we had better push on faster.  The sooner you bring me to your patron the sooner you can take yourself off.”

The rebuke apparently produced some effect, and for a time we proceeded at a fairly rapid pace; but the best part of the day was over, and the late afternoon was already closing in.  To reach Poictiers before nightfall was out of the question, and I began to resign myself to sleeping at some wayside inn.