The five men were at once sent off to the chateau where they had left their leaders.
"That is a pistol shot!" Pierre exclaimed, some twenty minutes after they left.
"I did not hear it.

Are you sure, Pierre ?" "Quite sure, sir.

At least, I will not swear that it was a pistol--it might have been an arquebus--but I will swear it was a shot." "To your saddle, men," Philip said.

"A pistol shot has been heard, and it may be that your comrades have fallen into an ambush.
Advance to the edge of the wood, and be ready to dash out to support them, should they come." But a quarter of an hour passed, and there was no sound to break the stillness of the evening.
"Shall I go into the village and find out what has taken place, Monsieur Fletcher?
I will leave my iron cap and breast and back pieces here.

I shall not want to fight but to run, and a hare could not run in these iron pots." "Do, Pierre.