I told Zoiloff the arrangement, and we were discussing the situation in jerky whispers while we halted, when one of my men came galloping up in great excitement.
“My lord, we are being pursued. I had to stay behind to get a stone out of my horse’s hoof, when I heard the sound of horses galloping some way behind me.”
“How far behind?”
“I cannot say—the night is very still. Perhaps half a mile, or maybe a mile.”
“Ride on at once and overtake Markov, and warn him to draw into cover. Off with you! We must find out who the horsemen are and their strength,” I added to Zoiloff.
“There is a small wood there, which will do for cover, Count,” he replied instantly. “Let the men ride there and take our horses, while you and I stay on foot to watch the newcomers.”
I told Spernow to post the men in the covert, and Zoiloff and I lay down in some bushes to wait for the pursuers.
It was an anxious moment, and we lay close together, whispering in hurried conference. We had not long to wait.
“I hear them,” whispered Zoiloff, gripping my arm. His ears were quicker than mine, but a moment later I, too, caught the clatter of horses’ feet and then the clash of accoutrements.
“Troops,” I whispered; and we both peered between the bushes, straining our ears, through the grey twilight of the dawn.