"_Parbleu!_ An enemy, he!" he grunted, spitting into the palm that gripped his sabre. "By all the fiends, but I, Jacques, would welcome the English as brothers." The clatter of hoofs told of moving horses, or preparations down below. Not that it was likely to disturb the enemy, for the horses moved often enough, particularly when being watered. Men slipped silently from their defensive posts and crept into the yard, while a couple of brawny troopers bore the injured Jack to the cart, smiling serenely at his angry protestations. "Treat me as if I were a child," he growled, as Tom came into hearing. "Who said I couldn't walk?" "I'll leave you behind if you're a trouble," came the answer. "Fiddlesticks, Jack!" "Or cut his diet down," laughed Mr. Riley, who already lay on the mattress placed on the cart. "That's it, my lad; cut his grub short. That'll make our Jack less fiery. What's up?" "Going for an airing," came the answer. "Now, men," said our hero, addressing the troopers, who were mounted by now. "You'll fall in on either side of the carts, which will be driven by two selected by yourselves. Spare horses will be led by others. If I have it reported that the coast is clear, we will throw the gates open and ride out. A sharp trot once we reach the road will take us away from the village. After that----" "After that, monsieur?" asked one of the men eagerly. "We will see. You are prisoners at this moment just as much as we are. If we get through, perhaps we'll call it quits. You'll ride for the army of France, and we for our comrades." That brought a grin of pleasure to the bronzed faces of the men. They would have cheered had not the need for silence been there. Instead, they picked up their reins, and fell in on either side of the carts, waiting for the signal to open the gates. Tom went back to the sentry he had posted over the church doorway. "All clear," was the report. "There is still knocking." "Then get to your horse and mount. I am following." Tom clambered once more into the yard, and looked up at the window which Andrews occupied. "All clear," came the gentle hail. "Then fall in--time we were moving." All were mounted within a minute, save Howeley, who stood at the gates. "Open," called Tom. "Open it is, sir," said the rifleman, throwing the gates wide at once. "Forward!" Steadily, and without sign of undue haste, the cavalcade rode from the yard into the open, leaving a place which, though it had revictualled them and offered excellent cover, might, were they to hold it longer, lead to disaster. They moved away into the open in regular order, the carts in their midst bearing their wounded and their supplies with them as became good soldiers. "Trot!" commanded Tom, and at the word the troop set their horses into faster motion, Andrews at their head leading them off obliquely towards a point where the road was accessible.