ermains, passed mysterious days between that domicile of tragic comedy
and Avignon or Rome, or ruffled it on empty pockets at the gamingtables,
so he had no apprehension. Besides, he was in the country of the Argyll,
at least on the verge of it, a territory accounted law-abiding even to
dul-ness by every Scot he had known since he was a child at Cammercy,
and snuff-strewn conspirators, come to meet his uncles, took him on
their knees when a lull in the cards or wine permitted, and recounted
their adventures for his entertainment in a villainous French: he could
not guess that the gentry in the wood behind him had taken a fancy to
his horse, that they were broken men (as the phrase of the country
put it), and that when he had passed them at the cataract--a haughty,
well-setup _duine uasail_ all alone with a fortune of silk and silver
lace on his apparel and the fob of a watch dangling at his groin most
temptingly--they had promptly put a valuation upon himself and his
possessions, and decided that the same were sent by Providence for their
enrichment.

Ten of them ran after him clamouring loudly to give the impression of
larger numbers; he heard them with relief when oppressed by the inhuman
solemnity of the scenery that was too deep in its swoon to give back
even an echo to the breaker on the shore, and he drew up his horse,
turned his head a little and listened, flushing with annoyance when the
rude calls of his pursuers became, even in their unknown jargon, too
plainly peremptory and meant for him.

"Dogs!" said he, "I wish I had a chance to open school here and teach
manners," and without more deliberation he set his horse to an amble,
designed to betray neither complacency nor a poltroon's terrors.

"_Stad! stad!_" cried a voice closer than any of the rest behind him;
he knew what was ordered by its accent, but no Montaiglon stopped to an
insolent summons. He put the short rowels to the flanks of the sturdy
lowland pony he bestrode, and conceded not so little as a look behind.

There was the explosion of a bell-mouthed musket, and something smote
the horse spatteringly behind the rider's left boot. The beast swerved,
gave a scream of pain, fell lumberingly on its side. With an effort,
Count Victor saved himself from the falling body and clutched his
pistols. For a moment he stood bewildered at the head of the suffering
animal. The pursuing shouts had ceased. Behind him, short hazel-trees
clustering thick with nut