the priming is all right in the pans."

Then they went to the door of the carriage.

"It is just possible that we are going to have trouble, Anne,"
Philip said. "Remember what I told you last night, and on no
account move from your seat, whatever may take place."

As he spoke, there was a discharge of firearms in front, and at
the same moment a score of horsemen broke from the trees, and rode
down upon the carriage. Their leader was masked.

As they came up, the coachman and Eustace discharged their
arquebuses, emptying two saddles. Then, drawing their swords, both
leapt to the ground. In the meantime Philip, Desmond, and the
three men dashed at their assailants. Philip made for their
leader, who, he doubted not, was the Vicomte de Tulle, but the
latter drew a pistol and fired, when he was within a horse's
length of him. The young man swayed in his saddle, and fell
heavily to the ground, while a piercing cry from the carriage rose
in the air.

Desmond, after cutting down the first man he encountered, turned
his horse and attacked the masked figure, who met him with a fury
that showed he was animated by personal animosity. His skill in
fencing, however, gave him but slight advantage in such an
encounter, while Desmond's exercise with the sabre, in the
regimental salle d'armes, was now most useful to him. Enraged at
the fall of his friend, and seeing that there was but a moment to
spare, for already some of the other assailants were coming to the
assistance of their chief, he showered his blows with such
vehemence and fury that his opponent had enough to do to guard his
head, without striking a blow in return.

Seeing in a moment that he would be surrounded, Desmond made a
last effort. The vicomte's weapon shivered at the stroke, but it
somewhat diverted the direction of the blow, and instead of
striking him full on the head, the sword shore down his cheek,
inflicting a ghastly wound, carrying away an ear as well as the
cheek from the eye to the chin. Then, wheeling his horse, he
dashed at two men who were riding at him.

The attack was so sudden that one of their horses swerved, and
Desmond, touching his charger's flank with a spur, rode at him and
hurled horse and rider to the ground. A backhanded blow struck his
other opponent full in the throat, and then he dashed into the
wood, shouting to Mike to follow him.

The two servitors had both fallen, and the greater part of the
assailants were gathered round t