uld have liked to ask
where he had obtained his experience.

And now, for the first time, Tom was face to face with a real
foe--no mere antagonist of the hour, with whom he had exchanged
some angry word, and was ready to follow it up with blows, but with
armed foes of a hostile race, whose blood was stirred by the hatred
bred of long-continued warfare, and who would think as little of
taking the lives of two Englishmen as Tom would of shooting a fat
buck in his native woodlands.

Again came the word of command in the hoarse voice.

"Halt! and declare yourselves, or--"

But the threat remained unspoken, for Lord Claud had drawn rein,
and was looking at the speaker with eyes of mild inquiry.

"What is your will, monsieur?" he asked, in his easy and excellent
French.

At this seeming show of submission the face of the officer relaxed,
and the men in his company lowered their carbines and stood more at
ease pending the result of the dialogue.

"Monsieur is not a Frenchman?" questioned the officer, with a look
from one face to the other.

Tom sat gazing before him with a stolid expression of countenance,
which greatly belied the tingling which he felt through every vein
in his body. It seemed as though this tingling sensation was in
some way communicated to the mare he rode, for she began fidgeting
in a fashion which plainly told Tom that she was ready to do her
part when the tussle should come.

"How know you that, sir?" asked Lord Claud with a smile. "If you
can tell me my nationality I shall be grateful, for I am ignorant
upon the point myself."

The man's face clouded a little; he felt a certain suspicion of the
handsome stranger, and yet he must not do despite to one of His
Majesty's subjects, and Lord Claud had the air of a man of no mean
status.

"Your servant is English," he said with a touch of sullenness, "and
I take it your horses are, too. The army of His Majesty of France
is badly in need of strong horses. If you are good subjects of his
you will be willing to part with them. My horse was killed but a
little way back; that one of yours would suit me right well," and
he made a step forward as though to lay a hand on Lucifer's rein.

"Now, Tom, my boy!" said Lord Claud in a clear, low tone.

In a moment he had whipped out his pistols and fired straight at
the officer, who fell face downwards almost without a groan. Tom
had meanwhile marked his man--the foremost in the rank behind; and
he rolled