My curiosity stirred to a high pitch, I drew near, and gliding between the horses and the wall, succeeded in climbing over the dashboard of the cart whose driver I found crouching under the seat, looking more dead than alive. As the mystery seemed to deepen, my curiosity was pricked still more. I ran to the rear of the vehicle and noticed with no slight amazement that a large sized man, robust as a Hercules, was clinging to two ornamental pieces that projected from the rear of the cart. It was thanks to his weight, and to the superhuman resistance that his great strength enabled him to offer, that the team was held back. "Captain Marion!" I cried. "I should have known as much! There is none other in the whole Gallic army able to hold back a cart going at full speed." "Tell that fool of a driver to pull in the reins. My wrists begin to tire." I was transmitting the orders to the driver who was beginning to recover his senses, when I saw several soldiers, on guard at Victoria's dwelling, pour out of the house attracted by the noise. They opened the yard gate and thus offered a safe exit to the cart. "There is no longer any danger," I said to the driver; "lead your horses on. But whom does this conveyance belong to?" "To Tetrik, the Governor of Gascony, who arrived yesterday at Mayence. He stops at Victoria's house," answered the driver, while calming down his horses. While the cart proceeded into the yard of Victoria's residence, I walked back towards the captain to thank him for his timely aid. Marion had left his blacksmith's anvil for the army many years previous. He was well known and generally beloved among the soldiers, as much for his heroic courage and extraordinary strength, as for his exceptional good judgment, his sound reasoning powers, the austerity of his morals, and his extreme good fellowship. He now stood on the road, and with his casque in his hand wiped the sweat off his brow. He wore a cuirass of steel scales over his Gallic blouse, and a long sword at his side. His dusty boots told of a recent and long ride on horseback. His large sunburnt face, partly covered by a thick beard that began to be streaked with grey, was open and pleasing. "Captain Marion," I said to him, "I must thank you for having saved me from being ground under the wheels of that cart." "I did not know it was you who ran the risk of being trampled under the hoofs of those horses like a dog! A stupid sort of a death for a brave soldier like you, Schanvoch! But when I heard that devil of a driver crying: 'Save yourself!' I surmised he was about to kill somebody and I tried to hold the cart back. Fortunately my mother endowed me with a good pair of wrists. But where is my dear friend Eustace?" added the captain looking around. "Whom do you refer to?"