A dozen pages and lackeys were attending them on foot, and the sound of their jests and laughter came to us over the heads of the crowd.
While I was gazing at them, some movement of the throng drove back Bure's horse against mine.

Bure himself uttered a savage oath; uncalled for so far as I could see.

But my attention was arrested the next moment by Croisette, who tapped my arm with his riding whip.
"Look!" he cried in some excitement, "is not that he ?" I followed the direction of the lad's finger--as well as I could for the plunging of my horse which Bure's had frightened--and scrutinized the last pair of the troop.

They were crossing the street in which we stood, and I had only a side view of them; or rather of the nearer rider.

He was a singularly handsome man, in age about twenty-two or twenty-three with long lovelocks falling on his lace collar and cloak of orange silk.