So I continued on
my way towards a knoll whence I expected to get a good view of the road,
and thus, should Pierre be returning on that road, spare myself the labor
of plunging into the wood's depths and listening for the footsteps of his
horse or of himself.
I had walked several minutes in the increasing darkness, when there came
to my ears, from the shades at the right, the sound of a human snore.
Had the boy fatigued himself in trying to find the way, and fallen asleep
without knowledge of his nearness to the inn?
"Pierre!" I called. There was no answer.
I called again. Again there was no reply, but the snoring ceased. A third
time I called. My call was unheeded.
I turned into the wilds, and forced my way through dense undergrowth. At
a short distance from the road, I came on traces of the passage of some
one else. Following these, I arrived at last at a small open space,
where the absence of vegetation seemed due to some natural cause.
Sufficient of the day's failing light reached the clearing to show me
the figures of four men on the ground before me, three of them stretched
in slumber, the fourth sitting up. The last held a huge old two-handed
sword over his shoulder, ready to strike. The threatening attitude of
this giant made me take mechanically a step backward, and feel for my
sword. Alas, I was unarmed!
"So, my venturesome lackey, we meet again!" came a sarcastic voice from
the left, and some one darted between me and the four men, facing me with
drawn sword.
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