On a fine morning in the month of May, 1598, two cavaliers started from the city of St. Malo, took the overland route which led to the South, and advanced towards a steep plateau.

These two cavaliers wore a costume half military, half courtly. The elder appeared to be forty-five years.

The other was a young man clad with a taste, at once sobre and distingué. Although armed like his companion, he seemed as if returning from a fete, or going to some spruce reunion of lords. His physiognomy had an air of feminine intrepidity which characterized the offshoots of the old nobility; his features were delicate, but his eye sparkled

with pride; his face was white as marble, but large and full; his nose finely designed, but bold in its cast; his mouth small, but sarcastic; his chin agreeable, but elongated; his body slim, but muscular and vigorously formed. In a word, he was the type of that Frankish race which imposed itself on Gaul, by brute force, after the decay of the Roman Empire.

The first was William, Marquis de la Roche-Gommard; the second, John, Viscount de Ganay. The former was a Breton, the latter a Burgundian.

Both numbered coronets among their ancestors, and although the feudal ice had begun to thaw beneath the sun of royalty, the De la Roches and De Ganays were forced to follow the superannuated traditions of their fathers. Hence it was that John had been sent into Brittany by the Count Germain de Ganay, his father, there to learn his first lessons in the use of arms under the patronage of the Marquis de la Roche, with whom he had formed a friendly intimacy during the wars of the League. After having discharged the duties of a page, John caused himself to be promoted to the rank of grand equerry, and under this title served William de la Roche.

For half an hour the two cavaliers rode on without saying a word. The road they passed was zigzag and rugged, and deeply incased between a double hedge of hawthorns and cherry-trees in blossom. The marquis, grave and thoughtful, abandoned himself to the easy gait of his charger; the viscount, not less thoughtful, looked closely at the horizon, and no doubt would fain have pressed forward the hands of his watch, but a sentiment of deference

restrained him from leaving his companion, who followed at a short distance. Suddenly, as they reached a place where the road formed an angle, five cavaliers, fully armed, dashed out before them, and ordered them to halt..

"By the mass, what does this mean ?" exclaimed William de la Roche, drawing his sword.

"Surrender, or you are dead men!" commanded one of the cavaliers, whose helmet was surmounted with a black plume.

“ "By my word," retorted De la Roche; "the invitation is as curious as it is courteous. Who are you, my good man, that you come into our presence without permission? Back, clown! if you don't, I will have you hung high and short, both you and the cowardly bandits who accompany you."

This menace did not intimidate the assailants, for they replied only with a shout of derisive laughter, during which the chief resumed his summons.

"I am of a good family, Marquis de la Roche," said he; "and I declare you my prisoner."

"Wait till you have captured me before you indulge in such bragadocia, chevalier-traitor and felon. Now, I will knock you down, or fire on you, as on a mad dog."

De la Roche, after a sign to De Ganay, rapidly replaced his sword in the scabbard, and raised a pistol in each hand. The young man imitated this movement with no less promptitude.

"Come on! Come on! Sieze the miscreants, my braves !" shouted the chief of the ruffians.