"Perhaps monsieur is himself going there? I am a stranger in these
parts."

"No," I replied, "we are not going to the town, but you cannot miss the
way."

He hung about for some time, trying to make conversation, but presently
rode on, and a bend in the road hid him from our view.

"An ugly customer to meet on a dark night, Jacques," I remarked.

"Let us push on, monsieur; that fellow meant us no good. Did you notice
his speech?"

"No."

"I did; he comes from our own neighbourhood. It is possible he has seen
us before."

"And what of that?"

"Nothing, except that it is curious," and Jacques quickened his pace.

At the end of a quarter of a mile a cross-road to the left led to the
river, and along this track we travelled. It was very narrow, so narrow,
indeed, that we were forced to ride in single file, Jacques going
before. The stranger had disappeared; no one was in sight; the
countryside seemed deserted.