"I will not because I have reason."

"What is it, monsieur?"

"You are a spy. You are an enemy to the cause."

"Even to you, monsieur, I say it is a lie. I will pass;" and she
struck her heels into her horse's flank. The animal bounded forward,
but the rebel chief seized the bridle, as he cried:

"You are an enemy to the cause; and you go now to the enemy. I know
you, mademoiselle Annette." And a terrible light blazed in his eyes,
as he looked the disguised maiden in the face.

"Ay, monsieur! you are quick at penetrating disguises. I am
Mademoiselle Annette; and I go to the enemy. Nor can monsieur hinder
me." As she spoke these words she suddenly drew a pistol, and cocking
it placed the cold, glittering barrel within a foot of the leader's
face.

"Unhand my bridle or by our Holy Lady I fire." The coward hand
quivered, the fingers relaxed, and the bridle was free.

"Now I advise monsieur to meddle with me no more this night. I will
not suffer any bar to my project; I have sworn it." So saying her
horse sprang forward, and she disappeared down the slope, leaving the
baulked chief sitting upon his horse still as a stone. Away, away out
over the soft grassy plain she sped, swiftly and as lightly as a bird
might fly. Three minutes brought her in sight of Hickory Bush, a