They eyed us closely as they reined in to let us go by; and M.de Rosny, who was riding with his horse's head at my stirrup, whispered me to press on.

Before I could comply, however, the strangers cantered by us, and turning in the saddle when abreast of us looked us in the face.

A moment later one of them cried loudly, 'It is he!' and both pulled their horses across the road, and waited for us to come up.
Aware that if M.de Rosny were discovered he would be happy if he escaped with imprisonment, the king being too jealous of his Catholic reputation to venture to protect a Huguenot, however illustrious, I saw that the situation was desperate; for, though we were five to two, the neighbourhood of the city--the gate being scarcely a bow-shot off--rendered flight or resistance equally hopeless.

I could think of nothing for it save to put a bold face on the matter, and, M.de Rosny doing the same, we advanced in the most innocent way possible.
'Halt, there!' cried one of the strangers sharply.

'And let me tell you, sir, you are known.' 'What if I am ?' I answered impatiently, still pressing on.