ing their horses,' said he. 'I should think
they----'

'On, on, my friends!' and away we flew, striking fire from the
cobblestones of the little town. A gendarme tried to stop up, but his
voice was drowned by our rattle and clatter. The houses slid past, and
we were out on the country road again, with a clear twenty miles between
ourselves and Paris. How could they escape us, with the finest horses in
France behind them? Not one of the three had turned a hair, but Violette
was always a head and shoulders to the front. She was going within
herself too, and I knew by the spring of her that I had only to let her
stretch herself, and the Emperor's horses would see the colour of her
tail.

'There they are!' cried Despienne.

'We have them!' growled Tremeau.

'On, comrades, on!' I shouted, once more.

A long stretch of white road lay before us in the moonlight. Far away
down it we could see three cavaliers, lying low upon their horses'
necks. Every instant they grew larger and clearer as we gained upon
them. I could see quite plainly that the two upon either side were
wrapped in mantles and rode upon chestnut horses, whilst the man between
them was dressed in a chasseur uniform and mounted upon a grey. They
were keeping abreast, but it was easy enough to see from the way in
which he gathered his legs for each spring that the centre horse was far
the fresher of the three. And the rider appeared to be the leader of the
party, for we continually saw the glint of his face in the moonshine as
he looked back to measure the distance between us. At first it was only
a glimmer, then it was cut across with a moustache, and at last when we
began to feel their dust in our throats I could give a name to my man.

'Halt, Colonel de Montluc!' I shouted. 'Halt, in the Emperor's name!'

I had known him for years as a daring officer and an unprincipled
rascal. Indeed, there was a score between us, for he had shot my friend,
Treville, at Warsaw, pulling his trigger, as some said, a good second
before the drop of the handkerchief.

Well, the words were hardly out of my mouth when his two comrades
wheeled round and fired their pistols at us. I heard Despienne give a
terrible cry, and at the same instant both Tremeau and I let drive at
the same man. He fell forward with his hands swinging on each side of
his horse's neck. His comrade spurred on to Tremeau, sabre in hand, and
I heard the crash which comes when a strong cut is met by a stron