"TO SCREEN HIM FROM STARLIGHT'S FIRE HE HAD INTERPOSED HIS OWN BODY." (p. 256.)
As they rushed down towards Lingan's they plainly heard the men leaving the house and starting after them. There was some confusion at first, which gave them a little advantage, but Starlight, who remained quite cool at this crisis, calmly gave instructions to the men, and said that it was towards Lingan's that Alec and Crosby were running. Directly after this they heard two or three men start in pursuit, with the directions to shoot the runaways if they were unable to catch them. The rest of the gang, with Starlight at the head of them, rushed to the little paddock to saddle their horses.
Both Law and Crosby were barefooted, as Alec had left the house without thinking to bring his shoes, and Martin, although he had had his in his hand, had been unable to put them on. Both of them badly cut and bruised their feet against the sharp stones of the valley, but neither of them stopped, or even slackened speed, for that; indeed, in the great dread of being caught before they could reach the horses, neither of them so much as felt the pain.
At last they reach the entrance to the valley, and behind them, not far off, they hear the heavy tramping of the men. Neither of them speaks, but Alec feels that Martin is leaning more heavily each moment on his arm. One thing only is in their favour; their bare feet fall noiseless on the coarse rough grass on to which they now have turned, and their pursuers cannot tell which way they go. At this moment heavy drops of rain begin to fall from the lowering clouds above them—great, heavy drops of water that the heated air has warmed. Now they pass by Lingan's. The house is dark and wrapped in sleep. A sheep-dog hears the footsteps of the men, as they tear down the hill, and barks once. How strange it sounds with all else so still. As they reach the little open space of ground, on the other side of which the long low line of black bush stretches, where Yesslett and the horses await them, they hear behind them the laboured breathing of the men. It is evident that they are gaining fast upon them. Crosby, growing faint from loss of blood, goes slower every moment; he feels he cannot maintain this killing pace. Alec hears his breath grow short. At last, when they have almost reached the place where Yesslett stands waiting with the horses, he says—his words are broken and his voice is faint—
"I can't—keep—up. Run on. He's waiting—horses—little way—straight ahead."
For answer Alec takes Crosby's arm that holds his own, places it round his shoulders, and putting his strong right arm about Martin's waist, half lifting him, he helps him forward. As he does so he feels the poor fellow's shirt is warm and thick with blood. Close behind him now Alec hears the men in pursuit. Kearney—he knows him by his voice—growls an oath as he kicks his foot against a stone. Crosby hears nothing, he is too faint.
Now the men wander away from them, a little to one side, and now—"Thank Heaven!—here are the horses!"
Yesslett stands between them, holding both. He has stood so long, gazing with aching eyes into the darkness, that when at last he suddenly sees the two figures before him, he almost shrieks aloud.
"Oh, Alec—" he begins.
"Hush, don't speak. Keep Amber still; he must bear two of us to-night. Now, Crosby, mount," he says, in an intense, low whisper.