"One of those men is riding grey Margot, which Bure said yesterday was the fastest mare in the troop.

And the man on her is a light weight.

The other fellow has that Norman bay horse we were looking at this morning.

It is a trap laid by Bezers, Anne.

If we turned aside a dozen yards, those two would be after us like the wind." "Do you mean," I cried, "that Bezers has drawn his men forward on purpose ?" "Precisely;" was Louis's answer.