"What is your will, monsieur?" he asked, in his easy and excellent
French.
At this seeming show of submission the face of the officer relaxed,
and the men in his company lowered their carbines and stood more at
ease pending the result of the dialogue.
"Monsieur is not a Frenchman?" questioned the officer, with a look
from one face to the other.
Tom sat gazing before him with a stolid expression of countenance,
which greatly belied the tingling which he felt through every vein
in his body. It seemed as though this tingling sensation was in
some way communicated to the mare he rode, for she began fidgeting
in a fashion which plainly told Tom that she was ready to do her
part when the tussle should come.
"How know you that, sir?" asked Lord Claud with a smile. "If you
can tell me my nationality I shall be grateful, for I am ignorant
upon the point myself."
The man's face clouded a little; he felt a certain suspicion of the
handsome stranger, and yet he must not do despite to one of His
Majesty's subjects, and Lord Claud had the air of a man of no mean
status.
"Your servant is English," he said with a touch of sullenness, "and
I take it your horses are, too. The army of His Majesty of France
is badly in need of strong horses.
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