It could not last much longer, however; and just when things were looking bad enough from behind, a big dray heavily laden came lumbering toward us, blocking the whole street.
“We must give it up,” said Ladislas.
But Sergius saw a desperate chance and took it. The heavy vehicle was making for a narrow side street. To wait until it had turned would have brought Bremenhof upon us, and the leading horses of the waggon were actually turning into the side street when Sergius, with wonderful skill, and at the risk of all our lives, swung round into the opening. Our horses and sleigh cannoned against the leaders, the sleigh gave a dangerous lurch, was thrown on to the one roller, all but toppled over, and then righted. It was touch and go; but the luck was ours, and on we went.
We even gained a little by the mishap, for our pursuers being unable to check their horses in time, were carried past the street opening, while the heavy dray blocked the road and delayed them.
But the advantage was too slight to hold out hope of escape.
“We must leave the sleigh and take our chance on foot,” I said.
Ladislas called an order to the driver, and when we had traversed half the length of the street and Bremenhof and his men had just passed the dray, Sergius pulled his animals on to their haunches at the mouth of an alley, waited while we jumped to the ground, and then dashed away again at the same reckless speed.
“We can get through here to the street of St. Gregory, and may find shelter,” said Ladislas, leading the way through the alley in a last desperate dash for freedom.
Then again fortune did us an ill turn. Half way through the place Volna caught her foot and fell. She was up again in a moment, but limped badly. She had twisted her ankle in the fall.
Ladislas and I put each an arm under hers, and in this way made such haste as we could.