will follow you at an
equal distance, together or separately.

"Should any accident befall me, you are on no account to ride up,
or to meddle in the business. I have told you what my instructions
are, and it will be your duty to carry them out, if I am taken. You
will put up your horse and, mingling with the soldiers and
townspeople, find out if there is any movement in the wind, or
whether any troops have already gone forward. Jacques and Roger
will do the same, and you will meet and exchange news. If you find
that anything has been done, or is going to be done, towards
putting more guards on the river, or despatching a force that might
interfere with the passage of the queen from Tonneins to Villeneuve
d'Agenois, Roger and Jacques will ride to the point where I told
you the crossing is to be made, and will warn the queen of the
danger. I leave you free to ride with them, or to stay in the town
till you learn what has happened to me. If you should find that
there is no movement of troops, you and the others will be free
either to ride to Pontier, or to make your way back to Cognac; and
to join my cousin and give him news of what has happened to me. If
I am only held as a prisoner, the Admiral will doubtless exchange a
Catholic gentleman for me. He is sure to take many prisoners at the
capture of the towns."

He then called the two men-at-arms up, and repeated the
instructions relating to them.

"But may we not strike in, should you get into trouble, master?
Roger and I would far rather share whatever may befall you."

"No, Jacques, it would be worse in every way. Force could be of no
avail, and it would lessen my chance of escape, were you beside me.
Single handed I might get through, and trust to the speed of my
horse. If taken, I might plan some mode of escape. In either case
it would hamper me, were you there. Above all it is important that
my mission should be fulfilled, therefore my commands on that head
are strict. I do not apprehend trouble in any way; but if it should
occur, you will at once turn your horses down the first street you
come to, so that you may in no way be connected with me. Pierre
will, of course, turn first. You will follow him, see where he
stables his horse, then go on to some other cabaret and, having put
up your horses, go back to the place where he has stopped, wait
till he joins you outside, then arrange for the hour at which you
are to meet again, and then go off in different direc