method of fighting more or less his own, the most unceremonious,
possibly, that these gentlemen had ever had to do with. Deeply cut in
the wrist one man dropped his sword. In a moment Seth's foot was upon
it, and as he turned to meet his other adversary he had taken a pistol
from his pocket.

The Frenchman uttered an exclamation of surprise, and Seth laughed.

"If not the sword point, a bullet; either will serve," he said.

Then Seth was conscious of two things, one a certainty, the other
imagination perhaps. Across his enemy's shoulder he caught sight of the
road which led up to Beauvais, and down it came two men running towards
the wood. After all, their opponents were to be six instead of four.
This was certain. His master was separated from him by a few paces, and
it seemed to Seth that he was being hard pressed. At any rate, if it
were not so, the two men running towards them must turn the scale.
Feigning a vigorous onslaught upon his opponent, who was already
somewhat disconcerted, Seth deliberately fired at the man fighting his
master, who fell backwards with a cry.

"Seth!" Richard exclaimed.

"Look! there are two more running to the attack. This is a time to waive
ceremony and be gone. To horse, Master Richard!"

The keen-eyed man, who had been powerless being without a sword, now
caught up the weapon which the fallen man had dropped.

"There's another pistol shot if you move," cried Seth, with one foot in