At a foot pace we went around the building, until coming to the path leading into the road, when Master Howell struck the spurs deep, his horse darting off like an arrow sent from a bow.
At that same instant came the crack of a rifle; I heard the ball whistling a few inches above my head, and said to myself that if the enemy shot as well as that in the beginning, they must succeed in winging all of us before we were well under way.
The fever of excitement was so great upon me that I cannot well say exactly what happened during five minutes after we emerged from the stable.
I only know that a volley of musketry rang out; that I fired point-blank at a man who suddenly appeared from out a clump of bushes, and cheered when he fell. Then it was as if a fierce conflict was being waged all around us, and that we rode through the showers of bullets until gaining the main road, when our animals stretched themselves to the race.
I came out from the dream into which I had been plunged, when Master Howell shouted to know who had been hurt, and each in turn declared that he was not even scratched.
It seemed almost impossible we could have come through that shower of bullets without being riddled, yet such was the case, and then I wondered whether the horses had fared as well.
My steed was going true; I could feel the play of his muscles beneath me, and knew beyond a peradventure that he like myself was yet sound in wind and limb.
"They aimed too high!" Master Howell cried exultantly. "If the scoundrels had turned their attention to crippling the animals, our chances would have been slim. Huzza for the Regulation!"
Then we four who had ridden out from the shadow of death gave voice to our triumph, and from the rear came a yell of rage, telling us that it yet remained to shake off the pursuers who were bent on taking us, dead or alive.
"Keep your horses well in hand," Master Hunter cried. "There's a long race ahead of us, and we must not wind the beasts."