Peace jumped on her back, and rode off at headlong speed.
While all this had been taking place in the lane the mob of persons in the field had increased considerably in numbers; but the foremost of them were a long way from that part of the lane where the short but decisive struggle had taken place.
Two other horses had been brought out from the stables at Oakfield, but some time necessarily elapsed before they could be saddled; and when Mr. Cheadle and Mr. Jamblin mounted them for the purpose of giving chase, Peace was so far ahead that the chances were remote of finding him.
He knew the bye-roads of the neighbourhood perfectly well, and took very excellent care to choose a circuitous route. As he was riding along he listened every now and then to ascertain if there were any sounds of horses’ hoofs to be heard, but none were as yet audible. He felicitated himself upon this fact, arguing therefrom that his pursuers had gone another road.
“I shall give them the double; they are on the wrong scent,” he ejaculated, in a tone of satisfaction; “but even when the worst comes to the worst all that will be left for me will be to make a stout fight of it.”
He had unlimited faith in his own power, skill, and address in confronting and overcoming difficulties; and his confidence did not desert him on this occasion.
Presently he came to three cross roads, and was hesitating which to take—calculating the while the chances of detection with his accustomed coolness.
While thus engaged he descried a mounted patrol on a formidable-looking horse, coming at a measured pace towards him.
To turn and fly was his first impulse, but upon second consideration he thought it better to put a bold face on the matter.
The mounted policeman came forward, and regarded him with a look of doubt and mistrust.