Lagardere answered him with a laugh. "Nonsense! There are but nine
rascals."
But the laugh died away upon his lips when the page hurriedly
interrupted: "Twenty at least."
Lagardere was staggered but emphatic. "Nine, duke, nine. I saw them,
counted them, know them."
The page was equally emphatic. "They have got help since you came. There
are smugglers hereabouts, and they have recruited their ranks from
them."
Lagardere grunted. "Ungentlemanly," he protested, and then addressed
Nevers: "Well, duke, we can manage ten apiece easily." He turned to the
boy and gave him some quick instructions. "Creep through the wood behind
the castle to the highway. Run like the devil to the cross-roads, where
my men wait. Tell them Lagardere is in danger. They may be here in a
quarter of an hour."