The Moor flung one of the little bombs earthward with all his force. It exploded at the very feet of one of the horses, which, frenzied with fear, took the bit between its teeth and bolted. Abdul threw half a dozen more, one after another, laughing with glee at the astonishing effect of the little bombs. There was no holding the horses any longer, and the whole party dashed away at a mad gallop along the road they had come.
It was not Tom’s object to overtake them yet awhile. He put the horizontal engines at half speed, and the airship began to follow the fugitives like a sheepdog at the heels of a frantic flock. The little group which had stood to the last were evidently the best mounted of the party, for they gradually closed in upon those who had started earlier. Tom could not forbear chuckling as he came upon the rotund black-capped figure of Salathiel ben Ezra striving to urge his steady-going mule to a brisker pace.
“Is it safe to leave him behind?” asked Oliphant, as the Jew was outstripped and passed.
“Oh yes! We’ll come back for him presently. We could easily catch him up. If the mule is like most of his kind he won’t hurry himself.”
The airship sped on after the rest of the party. Mile after mile was covered: the horses showed signs of fatigue, but one or two that were dropping behind were galvanized into further desperate efforts by the dreaded whirr of the propellers just in their rear.
The chase had continued for about half an hour when Abdul suddenly noticed that the number of the fugitives was one less than it had been when the flight began. None of the three occupants of the airship had seen a rider diverge from the track: to do so would indeed have been difficult, for it ran through uneven and rocky ground which offered little footway for a horse. Yet it was clear that one of the Moors had at some point or other left his comrades and ridden off to right or left.
“Never mind,” said Tom. “If he tries to get to the village, I’ve no doubt we can overtake him. His horse will be no match for us.”
“Don’t you think we’ve chased them far enough!” asked Oliphant. “We’re using up a great deal of your paste.”
“Yes. I think we’ve pretty well disposed of them now. We’ll swing round and go back for Master Salathiel.”
“What are you going to do with him—not bring him up here?”