Gerard and Dick came to a quick stop. "My beast is fresh," said Gerard. "You'd best ride behind me."
Dick got off his own horse, and assisted Catherine upon Gerard's. Then he remounted his own; but he had no sooner done so than the animal sank under him, the last bit of strength having passed from its trembling limbs.
"The deuce!" exclaimed Dick. "I imagine your beast is hardly fresh enough to carry three, Gerard?"
Gerard laughed, in spite of this setback, at the droll manner in which Dick asked this question.
Then Dick turned his eyes back towards Frankfort, took on a peculiar smile, and said, in the coolest and mildest of voices:
"It is a pity,—because I see a number of soldiers or police riding out of the gate we rode through a few minutes ago."
Gerard looked around, and turned pale. "My God!" said he. "It is the city guard! And don't you recognize Wedeker by his uniform, with the officer at their head?"
Dick heaved a gentle sigh, then looked at his empty pistol and his sword. "This is an occasion for horses, not for weapons," he said, with his former quietness. "To think that, after all the flying, the fighting, and the killing, a man should be nabbed at last, merely for want of a fresh horse. Why do you wait, Gerard? You can easily escape with Catherine. You must save her."
"And leave you? Never!"
"Well said, my brother," whispered Catherine.