Rouchefoucauld bowed submissively and with the air of a man severely but justly rebuked; and then advancing to me, said, "I beg to tender you my apology, monsieur, for an expression which should never have been uttered by _me_ in _your_ presence." "Quite sufficient, sir," said I, bowing, and anxious to conclude a scene which for the first time had disturbed the harmony of our meetings. Slight as was the incident, its effects were yet visible in the disconcerted looks of the party, and I could see that more than one glance was directed toward me with an expression of coldness and distrust. "Here comes D'Egville at last," said one, throwing open the window to listen; the night was starlit, but dark, and the air calm and motionless. "I certainly heard a horse's tread on the causeway." "I hear distinctly the sound of several," cried Coigny; "and, if I mistake not much, so does M. de Tiernay." This sudden allusion turned every eye toward me, as I stood still, suffering from the confusion of the late scene. "Yes; I hear the tramp of horses, and cavalry, too, I should say, by their measured tread." "There was a trumpet call!" cried Coigny; "what does that mean?" "It is the signal to take open order," said I, answering as if the question were addressed to myself. "It is a picket taking a 'reconnaissance.'" "How do you know that, sir?" said Grammont, sternly. "Ay! how does he know that?" cried several, passionately, as they closed around me. "You must ask in another tone, messieurs," said I calmly, "if you expect to be answered." "They mean to say how do you happen to know the German trumpet-calls, Tiernay," said De Marsanne, mildly, as he laid his hand on my arm. "It's a French signal," said I; "I ought to know it well." Before my words were well uttered the door was thrown open, and D'Egville burst into the room, pale as death, his clothes all mud-stained and disordered. Making his way through the others, he whispered a few words in De Marsanne's ear. "Impossible!" cried the other; "we are here in the territory of the margrave?" "It is as I say," replied D'Egville; "there's not a second to lose--it may be too late even now--by heavens it is!--they've drawn a cordon round the chateau." "What's to be done, gentlemen?" said De Marsanne, seating himself calmly, and crossing his arms on his breast. "What do _you_ say, sir?" cried Grammont, advancing to me with an air of insolent menace, "_you_, at least, ought to know the way out of this difficulty." "Or, by Heaven, his own road shall be one of the shortest, considering the length of the journey," muttered another, and I could hear the sharp click of a pistol cock as he spoke the words.