"You're not deaf as well as tongue-tied—eh? Quick! quick! hand over the packet," came the imperious voice of the stranger.
Paul saw that he was in a desperate situation—one from which it would only be possible to extricate himself by strategy. He put his hand to the inner pocket where the packet lay, and drew it a little way from his pocket. This movement disarmed the man who held the bridle. He slackened his hold. As he did so Paul brought down his riding-whip—or, rather, Mr. Moncrief's riding-whip—sharply on the other man's face.
With a cry of mingled rage and pain the man dropped the bridle.
"Good Falcon—good. Now!" cried Paul, urging the horse forward.
The second man made a lunge at the horse. Falcon, as though fully alive to the need of getting away, bounded forward like a dart along the road. It went forward at a breakneck speed, quivering in every limb, as though feverishly anxious to place as great a distance as possible between Paul and his pursuers.
"Thank God, thank God!" Paul murmured, overjoyed at their escape. "What a noble horse it is. That man is a foreigner, I'm sure of it—one who would stop at nothing to gain his ends. Who is he, I wonder?"
If Paul had only known! But all was dark to him, as dark as the road along which he was speeding. Only one thing was clear—that these men were the enemies of Mr. Moncrief; that they were anxious to get from him the packet of which he was the bearer. More and more Paul wondered what could be the meaning of it all—what could be the meaning of the curious hieroglyphics in his pocket.
But suddenly, just as he was congratulating himself on the distance he had placed between himself and his pursuers, Falcon slackened speed, and began to breathe hard. What was the meaning of it? Had an accident befallen him, or had he grown weary? Paul knew enough of the animal to know that it would not readily slacken speed through weariness. Falcon was one of those sterling animals who would take every inch from himself before he would give in through weariness.
If he could only get it a little farther on the road, it might be possible to keep the advantage he had gained on his pursuers. Once more he encouraged the horse to go forward; and once more it made a desperate effort to obey him.
Then it reeled again. Paul had just time to extricate his feet from the stirrups when Falcon fell with a crash by the roadside.