Von Theyer led the van, though he had been badly wounded, and his face was covered with blood.
Now that the brunt of the fight was over, my companion seemed again to fall under the spell of his strange fear, being blind to everything except escaping.
He spurred his horse cruelly, until the animal, maddened by pain, darted ahead, and I was left alone.
Von Theyer, yards in advance of his hussars, galloped on; and I heard him shouting, but could not distinguish the words.
Fortunately, my pistols were still loaded, and, drawing one from the holster, I turned in my saddle and fired.
Von Theyer was not hit; but his gallant horse, staggering forward a dozen paces, reeled and fell.
The hussars stayed to extricate their leader, and the delay gave me a little breathing space.
Once again I wheeled and rode on in pursuit of Count Beula, while a shot from a carbine whistled past my head.
Two others followed in quick succession, doing no harm--at least, that was my impression.
Rather strangely though, it appeared to me that the count was slackening speed, and soon I became certain of it.