Cartillon was not now a refuge. Immediately the distant sound of hoof beats came loud and louder yet, from the direction of Rouen. Ortez was coming. "Quick, Gaston, we must fly." My overtaxed horse failed me now. Pulling the rein he only sank slowly to his knees, and after a few spasmodic twitches, stiffened out forever upon the rocky road. I stood erect a moment, child in arms, irresolute. There was short shrift to think. My blood rebelled at flight. "Here, Gaston, take the boy; hide in the wood. Carry him to the Abbot of Vaux, and conjure the good priest, by our fathers' love and ours, to save my baby." Gaston had hardly passed from sight among the trees before a dozen well-armed horsemen, bearing the same white cross in their caps, spurred round a curve in the forest road, coming suddenly upon me beside my fallen steed. Sword in hand, I fronted them, determined, come what would, to fly no further. The evil face of Ortez shone with gratification at so unexpectedly finding me alone. "Now, yield thee, sirrah," he cried, as his men surrounded me. A quick sword thrust through the body of his horse, brought him to the ground. "Not yet, thou slayer of women; here, upon equal footing, thy life shall pay for those of wife and child." I verily believed the Almighty vengeance was in my blade, and doubt not I should have slain him despite his troopers but for a crushing pike blow over the head, so swiftly did it all come about. My brain reeled; the sword dropped clanging from my nerveless hand. When I recovered, I found myself bound upon a horse behind one of the men. "On with him, men, to Cartillon; there we rest this night in the King's name." In this wise we rode along; Ortez openly exultant, I silent and scornful. "Aha, my fine brother," he spoke low at my saddle, "thy father's son has thee in his power now. And shall I not revenge upon thee the wrong our father did my mother for thine? Didst know the story?" I made no reply, but he went on unmindful. "To _my_ mother he gave his love but dared not give his name; to thy mother he gave his name but could never give his love. So thou art the proud Lord of Cartillon, and I the outcast soldier of fortune, the nameless adventurer, slayer of women--what thou wilt. But things are changed now. Before many hours I will be the Count d'Artin, and thou a dishonored corpse, sweet brother." "Thou! _Thou_ my brother?" I turned upon him a look of incredulous contempt, yet, for I had heard some such tale of my father's youth, I asked: "Thy mother was--?" "Nanon Esculas, whom thy father abducted in Spain to desert in France." "My heart sank; I had seen the woman, and knew her son for one of the most courageous and unprincipled adventurers who hung about the Court and held their swords for hire. When the noisy troop rode up to the gates of Cartillon their leader paused, a head appeared upon the battlements.