the shelter of the doorways.

"Another horse!" I shouted as I sprang to the ground. "Another horse at
once!"

Then as I turned to inquire for Michelot, I espied him leaning stolidly
against the porte-cochere.

"How long have you been there, Michelot?" I asked.

"Half an hour, mayhap."

"Saw you a closed carriage pass?"

"Ten minutes ago I saw one go by, followed by M. de St. Auban and a
gentleman who greatly resembled M. de Vilmorin, besides an escort of
four of the most villainous knaves--"

"That is the one," I broke in. "Quick, Michelot! Arm yourself and get
your horse; I have need of you. Come, knave, move yourself!"

At the end of a few minutes we set out at a sharp trot, leaving the
curious ones whom my loud-voiced commands had assembled, to speculate
upon the meaning of so much bustle. Once clear of the township we gave
the reins to our horses, and our trot became a gallop as we travelled
along the road to Meung, with the Loire on our right. And as we went I
briefly told Michelot what was afoot, interlarding my explanations with
prayers that we might come upon the kidnappers before they crossed the
river, and curses at the flying pace of our mounts, which to my anxious
mind seemed slow.

At about a mile from Blois the road runs over an undulation of the
ground that is almost a hill. From the moment that I had left Canaples
as the Angelus was ringing, until the moment when our panting horses
gained the brow of that little eminence, only half an hour had sped.
Still in that half-hour the tints had all but faded from the sky, and
the twilight shadows grew thicker around us with every moment. Yet not
so thick had they become but that I could see a coach at a standstill
in the hollow, some three hundred yards beneath us, and, by it, half a
dozen horses, of which four were riderless and held by the two men who
were still mounted. Then, breathlessly scanning the field between the
road and the river, I espied five persons, half way across, and at the
same distance from the water that we were from the coach. Two men, whom
I supposed to be St. Auban and Vilmorin, were forcing along a woman,
whose struggles, feeble though they appeared--yet retarded their
progress in some measure. Behind them walked two others, musket on
shoulder.

I pointed them out to Michelot with a soft cry of joy. We were in time!

Following with my eyes the course they appeared to be pursuing I saw by
the bank a boat, in which two men we