Nor do they proceed in silence. Instead, the hindmost is heard to utter loud shouts which the one midway repeats, as if in echo; while he ahead alone says nothing. Even this would strengthen the supposition of its being a chase; the pursued party speechless from the intensity of his fears, and the effort he is making to escape his pursuers.
One near enough, however, to note the expression upon the faces of all three, and hear the words spoken, would know that the three galloping horsemen, though oddly apart, are in friendly communication with one another. Since in their shouts, though loud, is nothing to tell of hostility or anger. Nor yet any great variety of speech—only the two words, “right” and “left;” these uttered at short but irregular intervals, first by the hindmost, then taken up by the one riding midway, and passed on to him who leads; the last, as he hears them, shaping his course in accordance.
In this quaint fashion they have proceeded several leagues, when the leader, Ludwig, is seen to swerve suddenly to the left, without any direction having reached him from behind; this, too, at an angle of full fifty degrees.
“Right!” calls Cypriano from the rear, the tone of his voice telling of surprise, while the same is visible on his face.
Gaspar repeats the word in like accent of astonishment. Cypriano once more vociferating, “Right! to the right!”
But, although Ludwig must have heard them both, to neither gives he ear, nor pays the slightest attention to the directions called out to him. Instead, he still holds on in the new course, which he seems to have chosen for himself.
Has his horse shied, and escaped from his control? That is the first thought of the other two, who by this time have both reined up, and sit looking after him. Then a more painful apprehension forces itself upon them; he may have gone astray in another sense, than from the track he should have taken. Is he still under the influence of the animal electricity, which might account for his seemingly eccentric behaviour? For eccentric it certainly appears, if not something worse—as indeed they half-suspect it to be.
While they continue watching him, they see, as well as hear, what goes far towards confirming their suspicions. For after galloping some two or three hundred yards, and without once looking back, he suddenly pulls up, raises the hat from his head, and holding it aloft, waves it round and round, all the while uttering cries as of one in a frenzy!
“Pobrecito!” mutters Gaspar to himself, “the excitement has been too much for him. So long on the strain—no wonder. Ay de mi? Another of that poor family doomed—and to worse than death!”
At the same time Cypriano is reflecting in a somewhat similar fashion, though he makes no remark. The strange exhibition saddens him beyond the power of speech. His cousin has gone crazed!