“Bring up a dozen horses--the freshest!” he cried to the guard, and as the men hastened away he turned to me. “Monsieur,” he said in a voice that chilled me, “I warned you of your fate should you betray me, but it seems you did not heed the warning. You counted, perhaps, on a rescue. But you will never see Cadillac again,--oh, how I shall pay you for this!” His eyes were glaring into mine, bloodshot, venomous, and I confess that at the bottom of my soul I feared him. Yet still I managed to achieve a smile. “We shall see, M. le Duc,” I said. He seemed choked with rage and answered only by an angry gesture of the arm which hastened up the horses. In a moment Fronsac and I were bound to two of them and Mademoiselle strapped to a pillion behind a brawny soldier. I was hot with rage at the roughness with which they treated her, and I saw Fronsac straining at his bonds, his face livid. But in a breath we were off, the three of us with our little escort, at first under the trees along the river, then up the slope beyond. As we reached the crest, I looked back and saw Roquefort marshalling his forces at the edge of the wood to cover our retreat, and beyond, along the road, I fancied I caught a glimpse of M. le Comte’s troops, but we were deep among the trees again before I could make sure. Down the hill we went at a pace which, tied to the saddle as I was, seemed doubly foolhardy. Plainly our escort had their orders, and feared death less than the displeasure of their master. Evening was at hand, and under the great trees it was soon so dark that the man before me, leading my horse, seemed but a shadow. Yet they appeared well acquainted with the ground, and there was not a moment’s slackening of our speed. At last we emerged from the forest into a rough road, and for a moment the brightness seemed almost that of noonday, so great was the contrast with the gloom of the woods. A wide and fertile plain lay before us, and away to the south I could see a range of mountains faintly outlined against the sky, and I knew they were the Pyrenees. The road led us southward along a river, which I guessed was the Ariege. But though the land seemed fertile and promising, there were few houses--only a narrow peasant’s hut here and there, more squalid than any I had ever seen in our good Marsan country. So when, presently, there appeared ahead, standing just at the edge of the road, a building of more than usual size, I looked at it with no little interest. As we neared it, I saw standing before the door two horses with women’s equipage, and of a sudden the leader of our troop put his fingers to his mouth and blew a shrill blast.