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Not for a moment did he doubt what was the quarry of this prowling
gendarmerie. It was as if the chill shadow of the gallows had
fallen suddenly upon him.
And then the troop halted, abreast with them, and the sergeant
leading it sent his bawling voice across the common.
"Hi, there! Hi!" His tone rang with menace.
Every member of the company - and there were some twelve in all
- stood at gaze. Pantaloon advanced a step or two, stalking, his
head thrown back, his manner that of a King's Lieutenant.
"Now, what the devil's this?" quoth he, but whether of Fate or
Heaven or the sergeant, was not clear.
There was a brief colloquy among the horsemen, then they came
trotting across the common straight towards the players' encampment.
Andre-Louis had remained standing at the tail of the travelling
house. He was still passing the comb through his straggling hair,
but mechanically and unconsciously. His mind was all intent upon
the advancing troop, his wits alert and gathered together for a leap
in whatever direction should be indicated.


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