“Surely,” he answered. “Babes scarce out of leading-strings do not lie so glibly. They seem ready, though, to run to the aid of the first woman they hear squawking!” I flushed at his tone, but checked the retort which sprang to my lips. After all, I had doubtless much to learn. “But though we may not reach Cadillac in time, we may yet win the race,” he added. “You have noted, perhaps, that we are saving the horses. Should we push forward at full speed to Cadillac, that would be the end--we could go no farther. As it is, we are starting on a long journey, and Roquefort may be hard put to it ere he gets back again behind his battlements at Marleon.” He fell silent again, looking so stern and inflexible that I had not the heart to address him. Yet it seemed to me that M. le Comte was in error. Even if the whole force were not sent forward, it would be wise, I thought, to send a small party at full speed to attempt to warn Madame. But this was my first campaign, so why should I venture to advise? At last I heard the gallop of a horse’s feet behind us, and Fronsac rode up, his eyes agleam with excitement. “Such fortune!” he cried, as he pulled up his horse beside mine. “Do you know to what M. le Comte has consented, my friend? It is that you and I shall ride on together, full speed, to Cadillac.” It was my thought; I was not a fool, after all! “You forget,” interrupted Letourge dryly, “that M. de Marsan is a prisoner.” “And in my charge,” said Fronsac proudly. “M. le Comte entrusts him to me. I will answer for him.” “Thank you, Monsieur,” I said, my face aglow with pleasure. “I shall not forget your kindness. When do we set out?” “At once!” cried Fronsac, and clapped spur to flank. With a last glance at Letourge, who was looking at us with amused eyes, I sped after him, and in a moment we were past the troop and with only the open road before us. Neck and neck we went for half an hour or more, my heart bounding at the rapid motion, and then we drew rein to give our mounts a breathing-spell. “What a chance!” cried my companion, lifting his hat and wiping the sweat from his brow. “Do you know, Marsan, there is an adventure before us? I believe we shall reach the château ahead of Roquefort and his rascals!” “I trust so,” I said. “It would be a privilege to be in time to warn Madame.” “And Mademoiselle,” he added. “Of course, and Mademoiselle,” I assented, smiling to myself. “Then come!” he cried, “spur on again!”