They arrived at Ablain without accident. There they inquired and learned that the prince had in reality quitted Bethune and stationed himself between Cambria and La Venthie. Therefore, leaving directions at every place for Grimaud, they took a crossroad which conducted the little troop by the bank of a small stream flowing into the Lys. The country was beautiful, intersected by valleys as green as the emerald. Here and there they passed little copses crossing the path which they were following. In anticipation of some ambuscade in each of these little woods the tutor placed his two servants at the head of the band, thus forming the advance guard. Himself and the two young men represented the body of the army, whilst Olivain, with his rifle upon his knee and his eyes upon the watch, protected the rear. They had observed for some time before them, on the horizon, a rather thick wood; and when they had arrived at a distance of a hundred steps from it, Monsieur d’Arminges took his usual precautions and sent on in advance the count’s two grooms. The servants had just disappeared under the trees, followed by the tutor, and the young men were laughing and talking about a hundred yards off. Olivain was at the same distance in the rear, when suddenly there resounded five or six musket-shots. The tutor cried halt; the young men obeyed, pulling up their steeds, and at the same moment the two valets were seen returning at a gallop. The young men, impatient to learn the cause of the firing, spurred on toward the servants. The tutor followed them. “Were you stopped?” eagerly inquired the two youths. “No,” replied the servants, “it is even probable that we have not been seen; the shots were fired about a hundred paces in advance of us, in the thickest part of the wood, and we returned to ask your advice.” “My advice is this,” said Monsieur d’Arminges, “and if needs be, my will, that we beat a retreat. There may be an ambuscade concealed in this wood.” “Did you see nothing there?” asked the count. “I thought I saw,” said one of the servants, “horsemen dressed in yellow, creeping along the bed of the stream. “That’s it,” said the tutor. “We have fallen in with a party of Spaniards. Come back, sirs, back.” The two youths looked at each other, and at this moment a pistol-shot and cries for help were heard. Another glance between the young men convinced them both that neither had any wish to go back, and as the tutor had already turned his horse’s head, they both spurred forward, Raoul crying: “Follow me, Olivain!” and the Count de Guiche: “Follow, Urban and Planchet!” And before the tutor could recover from his surprise they had both disappeared into the forest. Whilst they spurred their steeds they held their pistols ready also. In five minutes they arrived at the spot whence the noise had proceeded, and then restraining their horses, they advanced cautiously. “Hush,” whispered De Guiche, “these are cavaliers.”