The Colonel scarcely noticed the tremendous pace into which his servant had lashed the horses—he was in deep conjecture respecting his pursuers. He thought it not improbable Mark Wilton might be one; he hated him, for he had been treated by him with distrust and scarcely concealed dislike; he felt that it would cost him but little repugnance to shoot him; but then he was Flora’s brother, and his blood upon his hands was not calculated to prosper his wooing. Nevertheless, rather than resign Flora, he was resolved not to stop short even at that crime.
He was roused from his reverie by the horrified moans of the ayah, and the sudden outcries of his Indian attendant. He thrust his head out of the carriage window, and saw that the over-driven steeds had been lashed into frenzy, and in their progress down the hill their own impetus, added to the enormously accelerated velocity of the vehicle, unchecked by a drag, had urged them to a speed which was beyond their own control. Giving way to fright, they dashed blindly on, unheeding in their fearful wildness the check which the speedily-alarmed Indian attempted to impose on them the instant he found they were beyond command; but he discovered his mastery was gone, and he soon lost all presence of mind, and shrieked to his master that the horses were flying with them to destruction.
The ayah quickly added her shrieks to the yells of the completely scared Indian; and Mires, with no little consternation, saw the danger in which all were placed, but he was powerless to aid. To open the door and jump out would have been to court death; to remain where he was would be to incur injuries it was impossible to calculate upon. He pulled down the window behind the coachman, and commenced an attempt to crawl through the opening, to gain, if possible, a seat on the box, in the hope that, uniting his strength with that of the Indian, who still clung to the reins, the horses might be pulled up.
He had just advanced his head and shoulders through the window when the carriage was dashed with tremendous force against a tall thick-set hedge, and the Indian was swept like lightning from the box. The ayah shrieked frantically, and Flora at the shock fainted away. The horses plunged and kicked in the madness of terror, and tore the carriage wheels through the impediments opposed to their progress; they bounded forward in their impetuous career, and swept down the hill with more tremendous rapidity than ever. Within a hundred yards the road took a sharp, abrupt turn; facing the horses stood the stone ruins of an ancient building. Under no control, completely blind in their frantic terror, they kept on their distracted way, swerving only by their own infuriate motions, but turning not as the sharp wind of the road came upon them.
With a terrific crash they dashed into the ruins, killing themselves, and shattering the carriage to atoms in one fearful and fatal collision.
In the meantime the two horsemen, who, as it may be surmised, were Hal Vivian and Nathan Gomer’s agent, whom he had overtaken, were fast approaching the scene of the disastrous accident. The fugitives would have been overtaken before they had reached so far, but for the delay in getting fresh steeds. As it was, Hal was almost knocked up with fatigue, save that the intensity of his anxiety for Flora’s safety prevented his feeling the physical exhaustion he would otherwise have done. He would have kept on until he had dropped rather than risk the possibility of losing her by even a necessary delay for rest and refreshment.
Having, from the ridge spoken of, when the attention of Colonel Mires was first drawn to his pursuers; perceived the flying vehicle; at Hal’s bold suggestion, he and his companion leaped the hedge skirting the road; and made their way by the direct line instead of pursuing the circuitous path. The difficulties they had encountered were many, but nearly half the distance was saved; and they at length—after leaping gullies and hedges, wading streams, and forcing a way through part of a plantation, one tangle of undergrowth—emerged at the brow of the hill down which the carriage containing Flora had been whirled to annihilation.
At this spot there was a cross-road, but the fresh print of the carriage-wheels in the soft, sandy, moist soil directed them to the right route, and they spurred their steeds down the declivity, but with more caution than the miserable Nanoo had done. Suddenly Hal’s companion reined in his steed, and jumped off his horse. He picked up a whip, and held it up.
“Here is a sign we are on the right track,” he said, “the blacky has dropped his whip.”
On to his horse, and away again. Not more than a hundred yards further, both pulled in their steeds at one impulse. A garment lay in the middle of the road.