They had hardly disappeared, when the five companions saw approach
a cavalier wrapped in a large cloak. The steps of his horse resounded
on the frozen ground, and they went slowly and with precaution,
for it was slippery.

"This time," said Quelus, "it is he."

"Impossible," said Maugiron.

"Why?"

"Because he is alone, and we left him with Livarot, Antragues,
and Ribeirac, who would not have let him run such a risk."

"It is he, however; do you not recognize his insolent way of carrying
his head?"

"Then," said D'O, "it is a snare."

"In any case, it is he; and so to arms!"

It was, indeed, Bussy, who came carelessly down the Rue St. Antoine,
and followed the route given him by Quelus; he had, as we have
seen, received the warning of St. Luc, and, in spite of it, had
parted from his friends at the Hotel Montmorency. It was one of
those bravadoes delighted in by the valiant colonel, who said
of himself, "I am but a simple gentleman, but I bear in my breast
the heart of all emperor; and when I read in Plutarch the exploits
of the ancient Romans, I think there is not one that I could
not imitate." And besides, he thought that St. Luc, who was not