“Stop, sir, look yonder,” he whispered; “don’t you see in the darkness something pass by, like shadows? I fancy I hear horses’ feet.” “Impossible!” returned D’Artagnan. “The ground is soaking wet; yet I fancy, as thou sayest, that I see something.” At this moment the neighing of a horse struck his ear, coming through darkness and space. “There are men somewhere about, but that’s of no consequence to us,” said D’Artagnan; “let us ride onward.” At about half-past eight o’clock they reached the first houses in Noisy; every one was in bed and not a light was to be seen in the village. The obscurity was broken only now and then by the still darker lines of the roofs of houses. Here and there a dog barked behind a door or an affrighted cat fled precipitately from the midst of the pavement to take refuge behind a pile of faggots, from which retreat her eyes would shine like peridores. These were the only living creatures that seemed to inhabit the village. Toward the middle of the town, commanding the principal open space, rose a dark mass, separated from the rest of the world by two lanes and overshadowed in the front by enormous lime-trees. D’Artagnan looked attentively at the building. “This,” he said to Planchet, “must be the archbishop’s château, the abode of the fair Madame de Longueville; but the convent, where is that?” “The convent, your honor, is at the other end of the village; I know it well.” “Well, then, Planchet, gallop up to it whilst I tighten my horse’s girth, and come back and tell me if there is a light in any of the Jesuits’ windows.” In about five minutes Planchet returned. “Sir,” he said, “there is one window of the convent lighted up.” “Hem! If I were a ‘Frondeur,’” said D’Artagnan, “I should knock here and should be sure of a good supper. If I were a monk I should knock yonder and should have a good supper there, too; whereas, ’tis very possible that between the castle and the convent we shall sleep on hard beds, dying with hunger and thirst.” “Yes,” added Planchet, “like the famous ass of Buridan. Shall I knock?” “Hush!” replied D’Artagnan; “the light no longer burns in yonder window.” “Do you hear nothing?” whispered Planchet. “What is that noise?” There came a sound like a whirlwind, at the same time two troops of horsemen, each composed of ten men, sallied forth from each of the lanes which encompassed the house and surrounded D’Artagnan and Planchet. “Heyday!” cried D’Artagnan, drawing his sword and taking refuge behind his horse; “are you not mistaken? is it really for us that you mean your attack?” “Here he is! we have him!” cried the horsemen, rushing on D’Artagnan with naked swords. “Don’t let him escape!” said a loud voice. “No, my lord; be assured we shall not.” D’Artagnan thought it was now time for him to join in the conversation. “Halloo, gentlemen!” he called out in his Gascon accent, “what do you want? what do you demand?” “That thou shalt soon know,” shouted a chorus of horsemen.