“Halt! halt!” the wind carries forward the shriek, and above their heads it sounds like the screeching of ravens.
“Strange! For whom are they calling?” Moritz looked back along the highway. White and clear it lay in the moonlight, but, far in the distance was a black mass, taking form and shape at every moment!
Horsemen! horsemen! in full speed they come!
“Postilion! drive on! quick! Let the horses gallop! There is a forest near—drive us to that, that we may hide ourselves in the thicket! Onward, postilion! we are not thieves or murderers. A hundred thalers are yours, if you save us!”
The postilion beat his horses! In full chase they followed—more and more distinctly were heard the curses and yells.
“Oh, God in heaven, have mercy upon us in our need!”
“Faster, postilion!—in mercy, faster!”
“Halt! halt!—in the name of the king, halt!”
This startled the postilion, and he turned to listen, and again a furious voice yelled, “In the name of the king, halt!”
The postilion drew up. “Forgive me, sir, but I must respect the name of the king.”