The cavaliers came straight at him. He parried the thrust of the first,
but the shock of collision hurled his horse against the side of the
coach. "Sacred swine!" he cried bitterly. "To endanger a lady, to make
this brawl in a lady's presence! Drive on!" he shouted.

"No!" cried Lady Mary.

The Frenchman's assailants were masked, but they were not highwaymen.
"Barber! Barber!" they shouted hoarsely, and closed in on him in a
circle.

"See how he use his steel!" laughed M. Beaucaire, as his point passed
through a tawdry waistcoat. For a moment he cut through the ring and
cleared a space about him, and Lady Mary saw his face shining in the
moonlight. "Canaille!" he hissed, as his horse sank beneath him; and,
though guarding his head from the rain of blows from above, he managed
to drag headlong from his saddle the man who had hamstrung the poor
brute. The fellow came suddenly to the ground, and lay there.

"Is it not a compliment," said a heavy voice, "to bring six large men to
subdue monsieur?"

"Oh, you are there, my frien'! In the rear--a little in the rear, I
think. Ha, ha!"

The Frenchman's play with his weapon was a revelation of skill, the more
extraordinary as he held in his hand only a light dress sword. But the
ring closed about him, and his keen defense could not avail him for more
than a few moments. Lady Mary's outriders, the gallants of her escort,
rode up close to the coach and encircled it, not interfering.