"No harm, Monsieur, we only mean to detain you until M. de Greville comes up," the slender man spoke quite politely. "M. de Greville will not come up this night--may God have mercy on his soul," I added solemnly. "Why not, fine sir?" the gruffer fellow on the big bay questioned with some heat. I made no quibble on his manner, but replied: "I doubt I have slain him. He lies back yonder in the road to Sceaux, and I know not whether he be dead or still lives." They hesitated and consulted together in a low tone; I saw my opportunity to press their indecision. "What excuse can you make and what authority have you for halting an officer of the King with dispatches to the King? With M. Jerome de Greville to stand between you and harm it was dangerous enough; now it is a matter of hanging." "But M. de Greville is not dead," they protested together, "we left him a few minutes since alive and well." I seized upon the vacillation manifest in their voices and proceeded with confidence. "Then how think you I came along this road? Think you M. Jerome would let me go so easily? You know his temper too well. Does he change his mind like a woman? I turned about to take the nearer path, and see, his blood is not yet dry upon my sword." "We do not believe you. It is some trick." "If you will but move this way and give me clear passage to Versailles, I will go and say nothing. You can then return and minister to your master." "Nay, we'll hold the road an hour, which gives him time to come up. An hour gone and you may pursue your journey." "Then, forsooth, one of you can make his peace with God. I'll shoot your stoutest bully and try blades with the other." I raised the pistol which had been concealed unknown to Jerome, and to say the truth, it looked formidable enough all a-glitter beneath the rising moon, though I doubted much if I could strike my mark. As I started resolutely onward I warned them: "Pull your nags off in yonder level space, leave the left fork free, or by the gods, you burly black-haired rascal, I'll take the first shot at you, you make the fairest target. Way there, in the King's name!" As is ever so with low-born churls, and no gentleman to command, each looked to the other for some act of heroism, and each sought his own safety. They stood their ground only an instant, then pulled aside as I had bidden them. As soon as I passed them a decent distance as if I had no fear, I put spurs to my good steed, and, breathing more freely than I had done for many days, heard the merry pounding of his hoofs upon the open way to my mission's end. CHAPTER XVIII SERIGNY'S DEPARTURE The clocks were striking, one after the other in monotonous imitative fashion, the hour of nine when I delivered my horse to a sleepy groom at the little tavern just outside the Versailles gate.