We followed the road that leads to Canaples, until we reached the first trees bordering the park.

There I dismounted, and, leaving Abdon to guard the horses, I made my way on foot, accompanied by Michelot, towards the garden.
We gained this, and were on the point of quitting the shadow of the trees, when of a sudden, by the light of the crescent moon, I beheld a man walking in one of the alleys, not a hundred paces from where we stood.

I had but time to seize Michelot by the collar of his pourpoint and draw him towards me.

But as he trod precipitately backwards a twig snapped 'neath his foot with a report that in the surrounding stillness was like a pistol shot.
I caught my breath as he who walked in the garden stood still, his face, wrapped in the shadows of his hat, turned towards us.
"Who goes there ?" he shouted.

Then getting no reply he came resolutely forward, whilst I drew a pistol wherewith to welcome him did he come too near.
On he came, and already I had brought my pistol to a level with his head, when fortunately he repeated his question, "Who goes there ?"--and this time I recognised the voice of Montresor, the very man I could then most wish to meet.
"Hist! Montresor!" I called softly.