The cool air fanned her fevered brow, and seemed to impart new strength to her exhausted frame. The inspiring hopes of escaping from her villainous captors had a salutary effect. Vaulting on the back of one of the horses that stood ready equipped, she dashed away from the house.
The clattering of the horse’s hoofs aroused her guard. Looking around him in a bewildered manner, he hurried to where his prisoner was confined, only to find her gone.
“Awake! awake! to horse! to horse!” he frantically cried, applying his foot in no gentle manner to the sleeping forms of his companions.
“What’s up?” asked they, in a single breath, springing to their feet.
“Our prisoner’s escaped!”
“The prisoner escaped!” they both exclaimed in one voice.
“Yes; look for yerselves!” answered the other, pointing to the vacated chamber.
“To yer horses! We must hev the gal again, dead or alive!” cried the ruffian leader, hurrying to where the animals were picketed.
When they reached the spot, there were but two horses, the third was gone. Imogene had unconsciously selected the animal belonging to the wounded member of the party, and the owner had no other alternative than to follow in the pursuit on foot, or go back to the house and await the return of his comrades. He chose the latter.
He slowly retraced his steps, muttering imprecations loud and deep. The mounted ruffians hurried in pursuit of Imogene, hoping every moment to catch some sound that would direct them.