Count Hannibal

"'Twas this way he ran!" "No, 'twas the other!" they contended; and

their words, winged with vile threats and oaths, grew noisy and hot. The

two listeners dared scarcely to breathe. The danger was so near, it was

so certain that if the men came three paces farther, they would observe

and search the haycart, that Tignonville fancied the steel already at his

throat. He felt the hay rustle under his slightest movement, and gripped

one hand with the other to restrain the tremor of overpowering

excitement. Yet when he glanced at the minister he found him unmoved, a

smile on his face. And M. de Tignonville could have cursed him for his

folly.

For the men were coming on! An instant, and they perceived the cart, and

the ruffian who had advised this route pounced on it in triumph.

"There! Did I not say so?" he cried. "He is curled up in that hay, for

the Satan's grub he is! That is where he is, see you!"

"Maybe," another answered grudgingly, as they gathered before it. "And

maybe not, Simon!"

"To hell with your maybe not!" the first replied. And he drove his pike

deep into the hay and turned it viciously.

The two on the top controlled themselves. Tignonville's face was livid;

of himself he would have slid down amongst them and taken his chance,

preferring to die fighting, to die in the open, rather than to perish

like a rat in a stack. But La Tribe had gripped his arm and held him

fast.

The man whom the others called Simon thrust again, but too low and

without result. He was for trying a third time, when one of his comrades

who had gone to the other side of the lane announced that the men were on

the top of the hay.

"Can you see them?"

"No, but there's room and to spare."

"Oh, a curse on your room!" Simon retorted. "Well, you can look."

"If that's all, I'll soon look!" was the answer. And the rogue, forcing

himself between the hay and the side of the gateway, found the wheel of

the cart, and began to raise himself on it.

Tignonville, who lay on that hand, heard, though he could not see his

movements. He knew what they meant, he knew that in a twinkling he must

be discovered; and with a last prayer he gathered himself for a spring.

It seemed an age before the intruder's head appeared on a level with the

hay; and then the alarm came from another quarter. The hen which had

made its nest at Tignonville's feet, disturbed by the movement or by the

newcomer's hand, flew out with a rush and flutter as of a great firework.

Upsetting the startled Simon, who slipped swearing to the ground, it

swooped scolding and clucking over the heads of the other men, and

reaching the street in safety, scuttled off at speed, its outspread wings

sweeping the earth in its rage.