“They should carry us to our journey’s end,” said Jacques in a whisper; “the sight of them gives me fresh courage.  I care not a rap of the fingers now for our chance acquaintance!”

“The cavalier seems to have turned your brain!” I laughed.

“Maybe ’twas only an idle fancy, but I mistrusted the fellow.  Perhaps you will laugh, but I thought he might be one of those who attacked Monsieur Devine.”

“Well?” I said, startled by this statement, and yet puzzled to understand how it affected us.

“If so, he must be trying to obtain possession of the papers.  He would follow the wounded man, and suddenly lose him.  He failed to get any information from old Pierre, and he learned little from us; but the advocate would tell him everything.”

“What could Cordel tell?” I asked, still puzzled.

“That your father, monsieur, is the chief person in the district—­that he is of the Religion—­that the wounded messenger might have found shelter in the castle.”

“Yes, the advocate would certainly mention that.”

“The stranger would speak of us, too, and the lawyer, recognizing the description, would inform him who we were.  That would arouse his suspicions, for you must admit that we chose a strange hour to ride.”

“And you think he would follow us?”

“That is what I feared.  He is splendidly mounted, and could easily overtake us; but now,” and Jacques laughed, “the case is different.”

“Even should he come up with us,” I said, “he is but one against two, and we can both handle a sword!”

My companion shrugged his shoulders.  “What chance should we have in Saintbreuil, monsieur?  A word to a king’s officer, and we should either be dead, or in prison.”

“Faith,” I said laughing, though not with much heartiness, “you draw a lively picture!  Once outside these walls, I shall not care to venture into a town again until we reach Tanlay.”

“With these horses there should be no need.”

The officer of the guard gazed at us suspiciously.  “You travel early, monsieur!” he remarked.

“Too early for comfort!” I replied, “but I must reach Nevers before Marshal Tavannes leaves.  He does not like idle excuses.”

“You are right, monsieur!” replied the man, with an instant change of expression, “one does not play tricks with the marshal.  But I did not know he was at Nevers.”

“’Tis but a flying visit, I believe.”

“Well, a pleasant journey to you.  Have a care, though, if you ride late; the country is infested with brigands.”

Thanking him for his advice I followed after Jacques, who had taken advantage of the conversation to ride on.

“I thought the officer might take a fancy to ask me some questions, and I am not so intimately acquainted as you with the doings of the king’s general!” he said with a chuckle. “’Twas a bold stroke, monsieur, but it paid.”