Rose D'Albret; or, Troublous Times. G. P. R. James

and the road, though somewhat sandy in its materials, was as hard as adamant.

      With a quick habitual motion of the eyes, the farmer glanced from right to left, marking everything around him as he advanced, and once, where the scene was more open and unencumbered with trees, halted for an instant and looked round. He still showed the careless confidence of his heart by humming from time to time snatches of a common song of the day, and once or twice laughed lightly at some thoughts which were passing in his own mind. His features were good, though somewhat too strongly marked, his eyes bright, and clear, his complexion ruddy with health and exposure, and his limbs well knit and strong from labour and hard exercise.

      At length the worthy man, trotting on at no very quick pace, began to descend the side of one of the hills of the forest and entered a sort of wild dell, where small broken spots of turf were interspersed with clumps of younger trees, principally ashes and elms, while the older tenants of the wood hung upon the slopes higher up. At the bottom was a small stream of very clear water, flowing on towards the Huisne, through water-cresses and other plants of the brook, but now nearly frozen over, though towards the mid-course the quickness of the current, and perhaps the depth from which the fountain rose at no great distance, kept the water free from ice. A little wooden bridge spanned it over, leaving room for two horses abreast, but the old and congealed ruts at the side showed that the carts, which occasionally came along the road, passed through the stream itself; and some vehicle which had traversed the valley not long before had so far broken away the frozen surface of the rivulet, that the traveller had clear space to let his horse drink, before he crossed the bridge.

      As he paused to do so, however, and slackened his rein for that purpose, he gazed round, and his eyes were quickly attracted by the sight of some objects not very pleasant to contemplate for a wayfarer in those days. About two hundred yards farther down the stream sat a party of some eight or nine men, with their horses tied by the foot, and feeding on the frosty grass as well as they could. Though the number was so small, a cornet, or ensign of a troop of cavalry, rested against a tree, for the ground was too hard to plant it in the earth in the usual manner; and the steel caps, corslets, and arms which each man bore, plainly showed the farmer that one of the wandering bands of soldiery, who were constantly marching hither and thither, to plunder or to fight, as the case might be, was now before him.

      From the force they seemed to muster, the good farmer at once concluded that such an inefficient body was more likely to be engaged in a marauding expedition than in a march to join either the army of the King or the Duke of Mayenne; but the green and red scarfs which they wore evinced that, when engaged in regular military operations, it was to the party of the latter they were attached, though the district in which they now were generally favoured the royal cause.

      However, as he himself, whatever his private opinions might be, bore no distinctive signs of either faction about him the traveller hoped that he might be suffered to pass unmolested, especially as his dress and appearance offered no great show of wealth; and, therefore, without displaying the slightest concern or apprehension, he suffered his horse to conclude his draught, and then was preparing to resume his journey, when, after a brief consultation, one of the soldiers advanced at a quick pace on foot, and planted himself on the opposite side of the bridge, while another ran higher up the hill, and the rest rose slowly from the ground, and began to untie their horses.

      All these movements were remarked by the traveller; but still he maintained his air of easy carelessness till the soldier who had placed himself opposite advanced a step or two towards him, exclaiming, in an impatient tone, as if irritated by his apathy, "Qui vive?"

      The farmer was not without his reply, however, though, to say "Long live the king," which he might be inclined to do, would have been a dangerous experiment, and he therefore replied, without the least hesitation, "Vive la France!"

      "Come, come, master peasant, that will not do," exclaimed the other, advancing upon him, pistol in hand; "thou art some accursed Politic! Are you for the Holy Union or Henry of Bourbon?"

      "Nay, good Sir, do not be angry," replied the farmer; "I am a poor man of no party. I have nothing to do with these matters at present, and mind only my own concerns."

      "If thou art of no party," said the soldier, "thou art an enemy to both. So, get off thy horse; I have a fancy for him."

      "Nay, I pray you," cried the other, "do not take my beast. How am I to carry my corn?"

      "We will save you that trouble," rejoined the soldier, with the courtesy usual on such occasions; "and if you have any weight of gold upon you, we will deliver you of that burden also. So, get off at once, Master What's-your-name, or I will send you off with a pistol-shot."

      "My name is Chasseron," answered the peasant, "and a name well known for wronging no man; but if I must get off and part with my poor beast, I pray you help me down with the corn, for I cannot dismount till it is away.--But if you will leave me the nag," he added, "I will pay you his full value, if you will come to my place. He and I have been old friends, and I would fain not part with him."

      "Get down! get down!" cried the soldier impatiently. "Clumsy boor, can't you dismount with a sack behind you?" and at the same moment he came nearer and laid his hand upon the load.

      The instant he did so, the farmer thrust his strong hand between his cuirass and his neck, half strangling him with his large knuckles; and with his right drawing a pistol from his saddle-bow, he brought the muzzle close to his ear, exclaiming, "Now, master, I see you have some command, by your scarf. So if the way be not cleared very speedily, you shall go up or down as the case may be, without any brains in your skull. I've got one life under my fist, and they can but take one in return, so now we shall see how they love you. Don't struggle, or you shall soon struggle no more; but turn round, tell them to get out of the way, and then march on with me to the top of hill."

      "I can't turn," said the soldier, in a rueful tone.

      "Oh, then, I'll turn you," answered Chasseron with a laugh; and without quitting his hold, he whirled his adversary round with prodigious strength, lifting him nearly off the ground as he did so. "Now drop your pistol," he continued. "Drop it this instant!"

      The man did so; and, touching his horse gently with his heel, the stout farmer put him into a slow walk, while several of the marauders ran forward to see what was going on.

      "Bid them back!" cried Chasseron, jogging his companion's head with the muzzle of his weapon. "Bid them back, or you are a dead man, without shrift."

      "Keep off! keep off, Beauvois," cried his adversary. "Keep off, La Motte, or by the Holy Virgin he will kill me!"

      "That I will," muttered Chasseron heartily; and the soldiers halted for an instant as if to consult. But your good companion of those days was not very careful of a comrade's life; and it seemed to be soon agreed that the insolence of the farmer was not to be tolerated out of any consideration for the gentleman in his hands. There was, therefore, some cocking of pistols and looking at pans, with various other indications of coming strife.

      Chasseron, however, continued to advance, dragging his captive along, and keeping a watchful eye upon all the proceedings of the enemy, while the poor fellow in his hands shouted again and again to the hard ears of his companions to hold back for God's sake. They on their part paid little attention to his petitions; and, in a moment or two, several of the soldiers began to creep closer, in order to get within pistol-shot, while the rest mounted their horses as if to make an attack on the rear of the enemy. No sooner had the foremost of those on foot reached a fitting distance, than he began to take a deliberate aim at the horseman; but the latter, muttering to himself, "This is unpleasant, Pardie!" turned suddenly towards him, withdrew the pistol from the ear of the fellow whom he held, levelled it at the other, and fired. The man went down in a moment, his weapon discharging itself in the air as he fell.

      At the same time the captive struggled hard in the hands of Chasseron, and, by a sudden effort, grasped his dagger to stab him before he could resist. But the farmer was still quicker in his movements, his other pistol was drawn in an instant and once more at his friend's head, and while two shots from the enemy passed close to him, one grazing his arm, the other going