Suddenly a warrior, urging his steed in advance of the rest, literally flying over the ground, comes within fifty yards of the fugitive. Five—ten—another effort and he will be within striking distance. Then rising upright in his saddle the savage whirls a lasso in the air. Another moment and the fatal coil will have settled around the doomed man’s shoulders.
But it is not to be. A crack and a puff of smoke from the spectators’ hiding-place. The distance is too great for accuracy of aim—six hundred yards if an inch—but the ball ploughs up the ground under the pony’s feet, causing the animal to swerve and the rider to miss his cast. The warriors, disconcerted by this wholly unlooked-for danger, halt for a moment, gazing in the direction of the report. At the same time a stentorian voice calls out:
“This way, stranger. This way, for your blessed soul, or you’re a dead man!”
The fugitive needs no second invitation. His horse’s head is turned towards the never-so-welcome refuge. Amid a shower of bullets and arrows from his discomfited pursuers he gallops up the gradual slope which lies between himself and safety, and, fainting, exhausted, speechless, more dead than alive, at length flings himself upon the ground at his rescuers’ feet.
Vipan’s attention is for the moment more taken up with the red warriors than with the man he has saved from their ruthless clutches. The whole party has now withdrawn beyond range, and is busily discussing the sudden turn affairs have taken. Then turning to the panting and exhausted man stretched at full length upon the ground with closed eyes, he remarks drily:
“You’ve had a narrow squeak for it, friend. I don’t think your scalp could sit much more lightly than it has done within the last few minutes short of coming off altogether.”
But the fugitive seemed not to hear. His whole attention was fixed—riveted—upon the beautiful face bending over him in alarm—solicitude—then unbounded surprise.
“Yseulte!” he stammered. “Yseulte! Is it really you, or am I dead or dreaming?”
“Why it’s Geoffry. Geoffry Vallance! Why, Geoffry, where on earth have you dropped from?”
“Er—I was trying to catch up your—er—Major Winthrop’s party—and lost my way,” he answered stupidly—rubbing his eyes in sheer bewilderment.