to take care of himself. Let us get
ready while he is resting."

CHAPTER XX

L'Estang's Courier

"The stranger rides a fine beast," remarked Jacques, as we entered the
stables; "it has stood the long journey well. The grooming and feed of
oats have made it as fresh as ever."

"Did he tell you his name?" I asked.

"No; he is a surly rascal. If he were to be in our company long, I
should have to teach him good manners. Had I not better waken him? We
shall not reach Poictiers to-night."

"Yes; tell him we are ready to start. I have no wish to pass the night
at some village inn."

L'Estang's messenger was indeed a surly fellow. He came into the
courtyard rubbing his eyes and grumbling at being disturbed. His patron
might not reach the town before the morning, he said, and it would be
better for us to make a two days' journey. His horse was tired, and
likely to break down on the way.

"Little fear of that!" declared Jacques brusquely; "the beast has
strength for a hundred miles yet. 'Tis as fine a creature as I have
seen."

The courier looked at him with a gratified smile. "Yes," he said,
brightening up, "'tis as good an animal as monsieur has in his stables."

He replaced the saddle and tightened the girths, but spent so much time
over the business that Jacques was hard put to it to restrain his
impatience. However, he was ready at last, and we all three rode down
the slope, and along the road toward the wood.

Jacques and the courier rode together a little in the rear, and, turning
round, I remarked pleasantly, "By the way, my good fellow, I suppose you
have a name of your own?"

"I can't say if it's mine or not," he replied sulkily, "but men call me
Casimir."

"Is this the place where you were attacked?" I asked, as we came to the
wood.

The fellow returned no answer, but, suddenly seizing his pistol and
spurring his horse cruelly, he dashed to the front and disappeared. A
minute or two later, we heard a loud report, and Jacques and I gazed at
each other in amazement.

"Your friend sent you a pretty guide, monsieur," said Jacques; "the
fellow must be crazy!"

"He fancied, perhaps, that he perceived one of his assailants."

"I saw nothing, and heard nothing; but he is coming back. Well, my
friend, did you get a successful shot?"

"No," replied Casimir, who seemed angry at his own clumsiness, "I
missed. But there are more days than one in a week, and my turn will
come yet! Did you get a go