"
I could not help smiling at the ingenuousness of the captain's
reasoning.
"My faith!" he went on, "I wish we were going from Rennes to St.
Malo instead of from St. Malo to Rennes. I should have loved to
join in the hunt for the rascals, and I doubt not you, Jules, would
be glad enough to get some portion of the reward offered for their
capture. Ah, well! the others will have the luck; but I would give
something to see those English dogs when--"
And here I pushed wide the door.
"Am I permitted to enter, messieurs?" I said in my best French, and
giving the captain a pleasant smile. Lying at full length with his
head on his arms, he could not clearly see me. The men stared at
me, but did not move nor speak, waiting dutifully for their
officer. He raised himself on his elbow.
"Who are you?" he asks, looking me up and down from my bare feet to
my unkempt head.
"I, monsieur," said I steadily, though my heart was thumping at a
furious rate--"I, monsieur, am one of the English dogs--at your
service."
This announcement was sufficiently startling to account for the
temporary paralysis that seemed to have fallen on the party. They
stared at me, speechless. During that moment I had thrown a rapid
glance to my left. The three deserters were lying against the wall;
between them and me were the stacked muskets of the soldiers.
While the men were still fixed in their astonishment, I sprang
three paces to the left, caught up the muskets in both arms, and
dashed towards the door.
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