"It is because I know how little I deserve such mercy as to live on such a day," answered the man, gravely; and he bowed politely, and rode southward. This devoutness and humility impressed me as being strangely out of harmony with the profanity and turbulence of the night before, yet the one seemed no less genuine than the other. My horse fed, I mounted and rode after the sturdy youth. Not far from Mirebeau, happening to turn my head towards the north, I saw, in the distance, a group of horsemen approaching at a steady gallop. From having looked back at this group many times during the preceding day, I had stamped certain of its figures on my memory, and I now recognized it as Barbemouche and his party. "Another day of it," I said, to myself, and spurred my horse to a gallop. An increase in their own pace told me that they in turn had recognized me. "This grows monotonous," I mused. "If there were only fewer of them, or more of me, I would make a stand." Presently I came up with the young man in the brown doublet. He stared at me with a look of inquiry as I passed at such speed; then he looked back and saw the distant horsemen coming on at equal speed. He appeared to realize the situation at a glance. Without a word, he gave his own horse a touch of the spur, with the manifest intention of keeping my company in my flight. "You have a good horse," I said to him, at the same time watching him out of the corner of my eye, seeking some indication that might show whether, on occasion, he would stand as my friend or my enemy. "Better than yours, I fear, monsieur," he replied. "Mine has been hard run," I said, lightly. Presently he looked back, and said: "Ah, the devil! Your friends, back there, are sending out an advance guard. Three of them are making a race of it, to see which shall have the honor of first joining you." I looked back. It was true; three of them were bearing down with great speed, evidently on fresh horses. Barbemouche remained back with the rest. I urged on my horse. "It is useless, monsieur," said the young man at my side. "Your beast is no match for theirs. Besides, you will not find a better place to make a stand than the bridge yonder." And he pointed ahead to a bridge that crossed a narrow stream that lay between high banks. "What, face ten men?" I said. "There are only three. The thing may be over before the others come up." I laughed. "Well, admitting that, three against one--" I began. "Oh, there will be two of us," replied the other. My heart gave a joyous bound, but I said, "I cannot expect you to risk your life in my quarrel." And he answered, "By God! I myself have a quarrel with every man that wears on his hat the white cross of the Guises!" His grey eyes flashed, his face became red with wrath. "Let us stop, monsieur."