Ah, would I indeed? As well ask an aquatic fowl if he can navigate in water. How could I ever forget her? She would always be in my thoughts waking or sleeping until "the leaves of the Judgment book unfold." She was pretty, witty and full of airy fancies; a witch of the road, she interested me with her graceful charm. How was I to know that she exerted herself and talked so much in order to keep me from remembering how tired and ill I was? Twice, she said afterward, I would have fallen had she not held me up in her strong young arms.
But all dreams come to an end, and our awakening was rude enough. The General's roan, which I was leading with the bridle rein tucked under my elbow, was the first to give the alarm. He stopped deliberately and looked behind with a friendly whinny, nearly dragging me over backward. In plain view over the rise of a hill our pursuers came thundering along, not a mile in the rear. The tread of their horses shook the earth. Had we not been so interested in our conversation, we would have heard them long ago.
"Solonika!" I shouted, but she was already in the saddle, waiting as usual for me.
"There are only twenty of them," she said. "Your friend Nicholas is not among them."
"Can you make out the General?"
"No, he is not there. Duke Marbosa is leading."
Only twenty; small comfort in that, for, if our horses could not stand the strain, unarmed as we were, five would have been too many. But the long rest seemed to have done them a world of good. Both were carrying lighter weights than they were accustomed to, and for the next five miles we increased our lead considerably. It was only momentarily. The tide slowly turned against us and yard by yard the Duke's men gained, until it seemed we must fall into their hands almost in sight of home.
Peasants stopped their carts as we galloped past and, after a hasty glance at the cavalcade blackening the road behind, drove quickly into the neighbouring fields, regardless of ditches to avoid the trampling hoofs.
I reeled in the saddle twice for some unknown reason, but, ride as we would, we could not hold our lead. My poor old roan was dripping with blood where I drove the spurs into his heaving sides, and his face was white with the foam that dripped from his mouth.
Solonika kept ever close to my side, reporting the progress of the enemy and calling out words of encouragement to me and my wavering animal when her own beast was staggering as well.