"Nothing the matter with me, Captain," he replied, "I am only looking at a lady who is coming up here at a gallop. What a fancy to go at that pace in such a heat as this."
"Where is she?" asked the Count.
"Why, there, Captain," he said, stretching out his hand to larboard.
The Count turned his eyes in the direction which Michael indicated to him.
"Why, that horse has bolted," he exclaimed, a moment later.
"Do you think so, Captain?" the sailor remarked, calmly.
"Zounds! I am certain of it. Look, now that she is nearer to us. The rider is clinging despairingly to the mane. The unhappy girl is lost!"
"Very possibly," Michael said, philosophically.
"Quick, quick, my lad!" the Captain shouted, as he rushed to the side where the horse was coming up. "We must save the lady, even if we perish!"
The sailor made no answer; he merely took the precaution of withdrawing his pipe from his mouth and placing it in his pocket, and then he set out at a run behind his captain.