"Well, well," said Anselme, joyously, "I shall quite have the appearance of a smart sea-captain with so many fine fellows in my crew! There is one point on which Master Martin has thus far left me in ignorance, and that is the precise spot where we are to land." "The Risbank fort," Gabriel replied. "The Risbank fort! Did you say the Risbank fort?" cried the stupefied fisherman. "Certainly I did," said Gabriel; "what objection have you to offer to that?" "Oh, nothing," rejoined Anselme, "except that it is hardly possible to land at that point, and that I personally have never cast anchor there. It's nothing but rocks." "Do you refuse to guide us?" asked Gabriel. "My faith! no; I will do my best, though I am but little acquainted with that part of the coast. My father, who like myself was born a fisherman, used to say; 'We must not try to lord it over fish or customers.' I will take you to the Risbank fort if I can. A nice little trip we shall have!" "At what hour must we be ready to start?" asked Gabriel. "You want to reach there at four, I believe?" returned Anselme. "Between four and five; no later." "Very well! from the point where we must embark so as not to be seen and arouse suspicion, we must reckon upon two hours of sailing; the most important thing is not to tire ourselves unnecessarily on the water. From here to the creek is about an hour's march." "Then we should leave the camp about one hour after midnight?" said Gabriel. "That will be about right," Anselme replied. "Well, then, I will go and tell my men," said Gabriel. "Do so, Monseigneur," said the fisherman. "I will ask your leave to lie down with them and sleep until one o'clock. I have said farewell at home; the boat is already carefully hidden and safely moored, so that I have nothing to call me away." "You are quite right, Anselme," said Gabriel; "lie down for awhile, for you will have enough to tire you before this night is over. Martin-Guerre, you may tell your companions now." "Ho, there, you fellows! You gamblers and sleepy heads!" cried Martin-Guerre. "What is it? What's the matter?" they cried, rising and drawing near. "Thank Monseigneur; for there is a special expedition on foot for one o'clock," said Martin. "Good! very good! splendid!" was the hearty chorus of the veterans. Even Malemort added his joyful shout to these unequivocal demonstrations of satisfaction. But at that very moment four of Ambroise Paré's assistants appeared to carry the wounded man to the hospital. Malemort was loud in his protestations. But notwithstanding his cries and struggles, they put him upon a litter and held him there. In vain did he pour most bitter reproaches upon his comrades, even calling them deserters and traitors, since they were despicable enough to go into battle without him. No notice was taken of his epithets; and he was carried off cursing and swearing.