“If we could get there,” remarked Jacques, “we could fight with our backs to the wall, and the odds are not so heavy.”

“Let us try.”

The animals responded nobly to our urging, though their nostrils were blood-red, and their quivering haunches flaked with spume.  Panting and straining, they raced along, so that we gained the road a considerable distance ahead of our pursuers; but the pace could not be maintained and Jacques counselled a halt.

“The horses will get back their wind,” he said, “and we shall engage at an advantage.  If we go on, the creatures will be completely blown.  Only three against two, monsieur; your father would laugh at such odds!”

“I am not thinking of myself, Jacques, but of the Admiral.  The papers make a coward of me.”

“This is the best chance of saving them.  Let us wait here.  Fortunately their firearms are useless, and they must trust to the sword.  Just fancy you are engaged in a fencing bout in the courtyard, Monsieur Edmond, and we shall beat them easily.”

We drew up on the dusty road, with our backs to the high bank, and waited—­perhaps for death.  The sobbing animals, trembling in every limb, were grateful for the rest, and drew in deep breaths.  The sun beat down on our heads; not a ripple of air stirred the branches of the trees; for a few moments not a sound broke the eerie stillness.

“Here they come!”

They had struck the highroad some distance above us, and it gave me heart to see how blown their animals were.  But the cavalier, catching sight of us, spurred his jaded beast and advanced, crying out loudly, “Surrender, Edmond Le Blanc!  I arrest you in the king’s name!”

“What charge have you against me?” I asked.

“I have an order for your arrest.  Lay down your sword.”

“Faith!” broke in Jacques, “those who want our swords must take them.  We are free men.”

“Then your blood be on your own heads!” exclaimed the cavalier.  “Forward, my lads.  Capture or kill; ’tis all one.”

“Keep cool, monsieur,” advised Jacques, “those two cut-throats are no sworders.  They are far handier with a knife than a sword, and are unused to fighting in the sunlight.”

“A truce to words!” cried their leader; “at them, my lads!” and he himself led the way.

Jacques met him boldly, while I found myself furiously engaged with his followers.  They were sturdy fellows, both, and fearless of danger; but fortunately for me without trick of fence, and almost in the first blush of the fight I had pricked one in the side.  The misadventure taught them caution, and they renewed the attack more warily.

Jacques was on my left, but I dared not look to see how he fared, though fearing that in the unknown cavalier he had met his equal, if not his master.

Thrust and parry—­thrust and parry; now a lunge in front, now a half-turn to the right, till my arm ached, and my eyes became dazzled with watching the movements of the flashing steel.  A laugh of triumph from the leader of our foes warned me that some misfortune had happened to my comrade, but whatever the mishap the gallant fellow continued to keep his adversary fully employed.