Fortunately, the river was not deep, and this latest incident afforded the viscount further proof that things seen at a distance, especially at night, are much more alarming than when seen at close quarters. He was really beginning, therefore, to feel safe, especially as the day would break in about another hour, when, as they were in the midst of the wood which lies about Marsas, the two travellers suddenly drew rein; they could hear, far in their rear, but distinctly, the hoof-beats of galloping horses. At the same moment their own horses raised their heads, and one of them neighed. "This time," said Pompée, in a stifled voice, seizing the bridle of his companion's horse, "this time, Monsieur le Vicomte, you will show a little docility, I trust, and be guided by the experience of an old soldier. I hear a troop of mounted men; they are pursuing us. Of course it's your pretended pedler's band; I told you so, imprudent youth that you are! Come, no useless bravado, but let us save our lives and our money! Flight is often a means of winning the battle; Horace pretended to fly." "Very well, let us fly, Pompée," said the viscount, trembling from head to foot. Pompée drove in his spurs; his horse, an excellent roan, leaped forward with a zeal that inflamed the ardor of the viscount's barb, and they dashed away at full speed, followed by a train of sparks, as their iron-shod hoofs flew along the hard road. This race lasted about half an hour; but instead of gaining ground, it seemed to the fugitives that their enemies were coming nearer. Suddenly a voice issued from the darkness,--a voice which, mingling with the hissing sound produced by the speed at which they were riding, seemed like the muttered menace of the spirits of the night. It made the gray hair stand erect on Pompée's head. "They cried 'Stop!'" he muttered; "they cried 'Stop!'" "Well, shall we stop?" asked the viscount. "By no means!" cried Pompée; "let us double our speed, if possible. Forward! forward!" "Yes, yes! forward! forward!" cried the viscount, as thoroughly terrified now as his defender. "They are gaining, they are gaining!" said Pompée; "do you hear them?" "Alas! yes." "They are not more than thirty--Listen, they are calling us again. We are lost!" "Founder the horses, if we must," said the viscount, more dead than alive. "Viscount! viscount!" shouted the voice. "Stop! stop! stop, old Pompée!" "It is some one who knows us, some one who knows we are carrying money to Madame la Princesse, some one who knows we are conspirators; we shall be broken on the wheel alive!" "Stop! stop!" the voice persisted. "They are shouting to some one to stop us," said Pompée; "they have some one ahead of us; we are surrounded!" "Suppose we turn into the field, and let them pass?" "A good idea," said Pompée; "let us try it."