They came close to me at a walking pace; I could dimly distinguish their figures as they leaned forward; they were level with me, one so close that I could have shot him dead with my eyes shut; but it was horrible to think of slaying a fellow creature in cold blood, and I let them pass.  Slowly and painfully they proceeded until at length they reached the narrow road.

Returning to the hollow I wakened Jacques, and, telling him of the two ruffians’ return, advised that we should proceed.

“Very good, monsieur,” he said at once, “I am at your service.”

CHAPTER XXI

I Save Cordel’s Life

Leading the horse to the road I helped Jacques to mount, for in spite of his bold words he was still very weak, and then walked along by his side.  The night was passing, though it was not yet light, but as the road stretched straight ahead of us for several miles we could not mistake the way.

I walked at a smart pace, but rather with the idea of reaching some place of shelter than from any fear of danger.  Our pursuers had abandoned the chase, and for a while, at least, were unlikely to renew it.  They were too tired for a fresh pursuit, and their animals were worn out.

Jacques being still wrapped in my cloak, I was able to walk briskly, and this prevented me from feeling the cold.  Mile after mile I trudged along, and as we proceeded the haze of darkness lifted, and dawn began to glimmer in the eastern sky.

Save for ourselves the road was deserted; the country around seemed dead; not a hamlet, not even a house appeared in sight.  Everything was gloomy and depressing; the very rays of the sun were cold and cheerless, and the bare trees added only another dreary feature to the landscape.

Several times Jacques begged earnestly that we should change places, but, knowing this would make the pace slower, I insisted on his keeping his seat.

“We will stop at the first inn,” I said, “have some food and a rest, and procure another horse.”

About eight o’clock we entered the street of a village and drew up before the door of the inn.  Jacques dismounted, the ostler led the animal away, and we entered the house, the landlord, who could not conceal his curiosity, showing us a room.

“A good breakfast,” I said; “the best the house contains.  And while you are getting it ready we will put ourselves straight.  Have you any salve suitable for cuts and bruises?”

“Yes, monsieur; I will fetch some.”

“Faith, Jacques,” I exclaimed, when the man had bustled off, “you are a pretty object at present.  There is a lump as large as a hen’s egg on your head, and your face is covered with bruises, which will show more distinctly when we get the dirt off.”

“Perhaps it had better be kept on,” said he, smiling cheerily.

After we had brushed our soiled clothing and washed ourselves I applied some salve to Jacques’ bruises, while the landlord prepared a compress for the swelling on his head.  Then we sat down to breakfast, and our attack on the provisions proved that the startling adventures of the past night had not robbed us of our appetites.