France -- History -- Louis XIV, 1643-1715 -- Fiction; Fronde -- Fiction
The fisherman stared at his customer's exposition of this strange whim;
but, as there was a crown at the end of it, and as he could see, some
twenty yards away, the dark forms of the other horsemen, he made no
objection, thinking that any indication of unwillingness on his part
might lead to the use of force, and that, in the struggle, he would
lose the proffered recompense.
He therefore made haste to say to the stranger that he was at his
service, with his boat and his oars.
The little troop thereupon at once guided their horses toward the
river, and, while their leader kept on to the water's edge, halted
at the top of the bank, in such a position, as if they feared to be
taken by surprise, that they could see in all directions. They had an
uninterrupted view of the plain behind them, and could also cover the
embarkation about to take place at their feet.
Thereupon the stranger, who was a tall, light-haired young man,
pale and rather thin, nervous in his movements, and with a bright,
intelligent face, although there were dark rings around his blue eyes,
and a cynical expression played about his lips,--the stranger, we say,
examined his pistols with particular attention, slung his carbine
over his shoulder, made sure that his long rapier moved easily in its
sheath, and then gazed attentively at the opposite shore,--a broad
expanse of plain, intersected by a path which ran in a straight line
from the bank to the hamlet of Isson; the dark church-spire and the
smoke from the houses could be distinguished through the golden evening
haze.
Also on the other bank, scarcely an eighth of a league distant, stood
the little fort of Vayres.
"Well," said the stranger, beginning to lose patience, and addressing
his companions on the bank, "is he coming; can you see him anywhere, to
right or left, before or behind?"
"I think," said one of the men, "that I can make out a dark group on
the Isson road; but I am not quite sure, for the sun's in my eyes.
Wait! Yes, yes, there are one, two, three, four, five men, led by a
laced hat and blue cloak. It must be the man we expect, attended by an
escort for greater safety."
"He has the right to bring an escort," rejoined the stranger,
phlegmatically. "Come and take my horse, Ferguzon."
The man to whom this command was addressed, in a half-familiar,
half-imperative tone, obeyed at once, and rode down the bank. Meanwhile
the stranger alighted, and when the other joined him, threw his bridle
over his arm, and prepared to go aboard the boat.
"Look you," said Ferguzon, laying his hand upon his arm, "no useless
foolhardiness, Cauvignac; if you see the slightest suspicious movement
on your man's part, begin by putting a bullet through his brain; you
see that the crafty villain has brought a whole squadron with him."
"True, but not so strong as ours. So we have the advantage in numbers
as well as in courage, and need fear nothing. Ah! their heads are
beginning to show."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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