"By Heaven!" he exclaimed, his perplexed face clearing into grinning comprehension. And to the sentries: "Fall back there, lads! Free way for'ard!" he cried. "Now, Carus! Madam, your most obedient!"
The steady thud of galloping horses sounded nearer behind us. I turned, expecting to see the horsemen, but they were still screened by the hill.
"Luck to you!" muttered Enderly, as we swung into a canter, our horses' hoofs drumming thunder on the quivering planks that jumped beneath us as we spurred to a gallop. Ah! They were shouting now, behind us! They, too, had heard the echoing tattoo we beat across the bridge.
"Pray God that young man holds them!" she whispered, pale face turned. "There they are! They spy us now! They are riding at the bridge! Mercy on us! the soldiers have a horse by the bit, forcing him back. They have stopped Mr. Butler. Now, Carus!"
Into the sand once more we plunged, riding at a sheer run through the semidarkness of the forest that closed in everywhere; on, on, the wind whistling in our teeth, her hair blowing, and her gilt-laced hat flying from the silken cord that held it to her shoulder. How grandly her black mare bore her—the slight, pale-faced figure sitting the saddle with such perfect grace and poise!
The road swung to the east, ascending in long spirals. Then through the trees I caught the glimmer of water—the Bronx River—and beyond I saw a stubble-field all rosy in the first rays of the rising sun.
The ascent was steeper now. Our horses slackened to a canter, to a trot, then to a walk as the road rose upward, set with boulders and loose stones.
I had just turned to caution my companion, and was pointing ahead to a deep washout which left but a narrow path between two jutting boulders, when, without the slightest sound, from the shadow of these same rocks sprang two men, long brown rifles leveled. And in silence we drew bridle at the voiceless order from the muzzles of those twin barrels bearing upon us without a tremor.
From the shadow ... sprang two men, long brown rifles leveled.