And spur on again we did, under the trees of the river road, down to the ford and across, then straight over-country as the river bent away eastward, the peasants’ huts flying past us and the workers in the fields straightening themselves with cracking joints to get a glimpse of us. An hour of this riding, and we were back at the river’s bank, where we stopped to wind and water our horses. Then across the river again, with Brassu on our left, and only two leagues to go. But noon was long since past, and I saw Fronsac, with anxious eyes, mark the declining sun. Still on and on we went, and I could feel my mount trembling between my knees. Plainly there was no question here of sparing horses. “Around that bend, up the hill beyond, and we are there!” cried my companion at last. “Look to your pistols!” I drew them from their holsters, one after the other, and assured myself that they were primed and ready for service. In a moment we were around the bend of the road, and before us lay a long, gentle slope. Up this we spurred, and there beneath us in the valley stood the château, peaceful and smiling under the bright sun of the Midi. I could see half a dozen lacqueys lolling about the great gate. But it was not at them I looked. It was at a gleam of arms and warlike equipage which was just topping the opposite slope, and my heart leaped, for I knew that it must be the force of Roquefort. There was a thrill in that moment worth a year of life. How my blood sang! But no pausing there! Again the spur, and down the slope we rushed, our mounts responding gamely with a last burst of speed. Roquefort’s men must have seen us in the same instant and understood our mission, for they came tearing down the other slope to head us off. The cries, the beat of horses’ hoofs, the rattle of arms, reached to the château. At a glance, I saw the lacqueys laboring at the great gates--we should be in time--the château was safe--we would win the race! Then, of a sudden, came a shrill, frenzied cry from my companion, and he jerked his horse about and galloped full course towards the river. For an instant I thought him seized with sudden madness, but as my eyes followed him I saw a sight which made my heart stand still. Almost on the river bank an arbor had been built, and at its door a girl was standing. I saw at a glance her beauty and the richness of her dress. It must be Mademoiselle--it could be no other! In a flash, I too had pulled my horse around and galloped after my companion. Thank God, there was not far to go! “This way, this way, Valérie!” cried Fronsac, standing up in his stirrups, frenzied with excitement. She stood for an instant confused, uncertain, looking at him. Then she sped towards him, her face alight.