Part 45 (1/2)

”If you are endangered, why should not I be? This is not the night, Ernanton, on which you should ask me to leave you.”

”Then I shall at least remain here,” said I. ”Go to the head, Blaise. But if there is a challenge, I shall answer it. Perhaps they will not know us and we can make them think we are friends.”

He rode forward with sparkling eyes, although not before casting one glance of solicitude at Jeannotte, who did not leave her mistress.

The men eagerly looked to their arms as they rode, and they exchanged conjectures in low, quick tones, casting many a curious look at the approaching force. Julie and I kept silence, I wondering what would be the outcome of this encounter.

Suddenly, when the head of their long, somewhat straggling line had just reached the junction, and Blaise was but a short distance from it, came from their leader--La Chatre's equerry, I think--the order to halt, and then the clear, sharp cry:

”Who goes there?”

Before I could answer, a familiar voice near their leader cried out:

”It is his company,--La Tournoire's,--I swear it! I know the big fellow at the head.”

The voice was that of the foppish, cowardly rascal of De Berquin's band.

I now saw that the three fellows left by Blaise at Maury were held as prisoners by the governor's troops. Poor Jacques, doubtless, thought to get his freedom or some reward for crying out our ident.i.ty.

”I shall wring your neck yet, lap-dog!” roared Blaise.

All chance of pa.s.sing under false colors was now gone. A battle with thrice our force seemed imminent. What would befall Julie if they should be too much for us? The thought made me sick with horror. At that instant I remembered something.

”Halt!” I cried to the men. ”I shall return in a moment, sweetheart.

Monsieur, the captain,” and I rode forward towards the leader of the governor's troops, ”your informant speaks truly. Permit me to introduce myself. I am the Sieur de la Tournoire, the person named in that order.”

With which I politely handed him the pa.s.s that I had forced from La Chatre, which I had for a time forgotten.

It was about three hours after midnight, and the moon was not yet very low. The captain, taken by surprise in several respects, mechanically grasped the doc.u.ment and read it.

”It is a--a pa.s.s,” he said, presently, staring at it and at me in a bewildered manner.

”As you see, for myself and all my company,” said I; ”signed by M. de la Chatre.”

”Yes, it is his signature.”

”His seal, also, you will observe.”