"Draw level, monsieur. Now!" and the next instant we were dashing down
the remaining part of the slope at terrific speed.

It was a wild ride, a ride so mad that many a night afterwards I started
from sleep with the sensation of being hurled through space. The horses
flew, their hoofs seeming not to touch the ground; had we wished, we
should have found it impossible to check their headlong career. Nearer
and nearer we approached; the horsemen wavered visibly, their leader
alone remaining unmoved.

There was a loud report; a ball whizzed past, and we heard a cry of "In
the king's name!"

For answer we discharged our pistols almost at point-blank distance, and
a horse rolled over heavily with its rider.

"One down!" cried Jacques in triumph, drawing his sword and aiming a
desperate blow at the leader, who called out--"The boy! Capture the boy!
Shoot his horse, you dolts!"

He thrust at me vigorously, but, parrying the attack more by luck than
good management, I dashed on, Jacques crying, "This way, monsieur,
quick!"

With a tremendous leap we sprang into the river, the poor animals
struggling franticly to keep their footing.

"This way!" shouted Jacques, "we are too far to the right; the ford lies
here. Forward, forward! Use your spurs; they are after us. To the front;