A Perilous Ride


"I trust no harm has happened to my father, Jacques. The night grows
late and there are strange rumours afloat. 'Tis said that the Guises are
eager to break the peace."

"Better open warfare than this state of things, monsieur. The peace is
no peace: the king's troops are robbing and slaying as they please.
François of the mill told me a pretty tale of their doings to-day. But
listen, I hear the beat of hoofs on the road below."

"There are two horses, Jacques, and they approach very slowly. My father
does not usually ride like that."

"No, faith!" said Jacques, with a laugh; "if his horse went at that pace
the Sieur Le Blanc would get down and walk! But the travellers are
coming here, nevertheless. Shall we go to the gate, monsieur?"

"It may be as well," I answered. "One can never tell these days what
mischief is brewing."

By the peasantry for miles around my home was called the Castle of Le
Blanc. It stood on the brow of a hill, overlooking a wide plain, and was
defended by a dry moat and massive walls. A score of resolute men inside
might easily have kept two hundred at bay, and more than once, indeed,
the castle had stood a regular siege.

According to Jacques it might have to do so again, for in that year,