The cause of his merriment--we had not far to look for it--was a horseman who was riding up the street under difficulties.
He was reining in his steed--no easy task on that steep greasy pavement--so as to present some front to a score or so of ragged knaves who were following close at his heels, hooting and throwing mud and pebbles at him.

The man had drawn his sword, and his oaths came up to us, mingled with shrill cries of "VIVE LA MESSE!" and half drowned by the clattering of the horse's hoofs.

We saw a stone strike him in the face, and draw blood, and heard him swear louder than before.
"Oh!" cried Catherine, clasping her hands with a sudden shriek of indignation, "my letter! They will get my letter!" "Death!" exclaimed Croisette, "She is right! It is M.de Pavannes' courier! This must be stopped! We cannot stand this, Anne!" "They shall pay dearly for it, by our Lady!" I cried swearing myself.
"And in peace time too--the villains! Gil! Francis!" I shouted, "where are you ?" And I looked round for my fowling piece, while Croisette jumped on the wall, and forming a trumpet with his hands, shrieked at the top of his voice, "Back! he bears a letter from the Vicomte!" But the device did not succeed, and I could not find my gun.

For a moment we were helpless, and before I could have fetched the gun from the house, the horseman and the hooting rabble at his heels, had turned a corner and were hidden by the roofs.
Another turn however would bring them out in front of the gateway, and seeing this we hurried down the ramp to meet them.

I stayed a moment to tell Gil to collect the servants, and, this keeping me, Croisette reached the narrow street outside before me.