"But from whom are we in danger?" "A party of gentlemen who are looking for you at Brilbault at this moment, and who will soon pass here, with a big escort, on their way to sleep at Briantes." "Did you see them?" "Yes." "How many of them are there?" "Perhaps two hundred mounted men!" said Mario trying to frighten his man. "So the plan is discovered, is it?" said Macabre, evidently shaken. "It seems so!" The captain seemed to reflect, in so far as his stony or, more accurately, his horny face could be said to denote any mental preoccupation. Mario's heart beat fast under his rags. For a moment he thought that his stratagem would be successful and that Macabre would decide to retrace his steps. But the captain began to talk German with his scouts, who left the room at once, and Macabre resumed his graceful attitude, one leg thrown over the andiron, the other across the chair the lieutenant had left. Mario ventured to question him. "Well, captain," he said, "are you going to turn back?" "To Linières? No, indeed, my little monkey! My horses are tired and my men too. For my own part I slept so tittle at Brilbault last night that I propose to make it up here. Woe to the man who disturbs me!" These plans for slumber aroused hope anew in Mario's heart. "If these people are very tired," he thought, "a moment will come when we shall be able to escape." He did not, as the marquis did, rely upon the arrival of his friends and servants. Pilar, by advising them of the capture of the _basse-cour_ at Briantes, would lead them to hurry thither instantly, expecting that the marquis would take the same direction; for the little gypsy, whose intellect was shrewd beyond her years, would not fail to tell them that Mario had started off to warn his father. As he was making these reflections, Lieutenant Saccage re-entered the room, and, addressing Macabre, who was dozing before the fire, said in a half-humble, half-insolent tone: "Allow me to inform you, captain, that, thanks to your plan of dividing us up into small parties, we lose much time; your wife and her party have not arrived, and if you sit a long while at table, as you usually do, our whole plan may fail. The proper course would be not to have a feast, but to eat quietly, sleep a couple of hours, and go forward before the passers-by have time to speed the news of our coming." "Detain the passers-by!" rejoined Macabre, calmly. "Didn't we agree on that? You will have no great task, for we didn't meet a cat from Linières here, and this country's as empty as a church in '62. But these are useless words. I hear my Proserpine's voice. She comes! Let us go to meet her!" As he spoke, Macabre rose with an effort and went down to the kitchen. "The captain's growing old!" said Saccage, in Italian, to one of the farriers who stood like statues in front of the door.