The horse tries to avoid him, but cannot. His head is secured by the tangled rein; and he can only bound about in a circle, of which his nose is the centre.
The rider takes no heed, nor makes any attempt to elude the capture; but sits stiff and mute in the saddle, leaving the horse to continue his “cavortings.”
After a brief struggle the animal is secured.
The captor utters an exclamation of joy.
It is suddenly checked, and by a thought. He has not yet fully accomplished his purpose.
What is this purpose?
It is a secret known only to himself; and the stealthy glance cast around tells, that he has no wish to share it with another.
After scanning the selvedge of the thicket, and listening a second or two, he resumes action.
A singular action it might appear, to one ignorant of its object. He draws his knife from its sheath; clutches a corner of the serapé; raises it above the breast of the Headless rider; and then bends towards him, as if intending to plunge the blade into his heart!
The arm is uplifted. The blow is not likely to be warded off.