“Idiot! Blockhead!” the colonel roared at the terrified officer. “You will pay dearly for this! Why did you let those scoundrels through? Open that gate at once—send after me all the men you have—telegraph to the next station. Do you hear me?”
Then, as the gate swung back, the irate colonel and his squad of armed Cossacks—now increased to nine—galloped madly through, and went pounding along the frosty road in hot chase of the fugitive sledge.
CHAPTER IX.
MAURICE DUPONT.
As the twinkling lights of the little settlement receded in the distance, and the stretch of road intervening still remained free from pursuers, Sandoff and his companions felt their spirits rise, darkly as the future loomed ahead. Shamarin helped Vera to prepare and load all the guns. This done, he furled the rear hood, and stationed himself so that he could see back along the course over which they had come. The horses continued to gallop at a tremendous pace, but when two or three miles had been traversed the pursuers hove in sight, and Shamarin soon reported the alarming fact that they were gaining.
“They will continue to gain, of course,” said Sandoff. “It can’t be otherwise. We must fight them off.”
He backed the two trunks and a pile of rugs against the seat, for protection to himself while driving, and instructed Vera and Shamarin to keep low in the bottom of the sledge, which had a depth of at least two feet.
By this time the Cossacks were close enough to be counted, and close enough for something else, too, for a shower of bullets suddenly whistled about the sledge. Shamarin retorted with two cleverly aimed shots, and disabled one of the enemy. This occasioned a slight delay, after which the Cossacks came on more rapidly than ever. It was evident that a resumption of firing would do speedy harm to the fugitives or their horses. Taking advantage of a smooth bit of road where the sledge made little noise, Shamarin leaned from the end and shouted with all his might:
“We have a captive here—Inspector Zamosc. We are going to place him in range, and if you shoot again you will surely kill him.”
Colonel Nord’s reply to this was a volley of oaths, but the firing was not resumed, in spite of the fact that occasional shots from the sledge held the Cossacks at bay.
None realized the critical nature of the situation better than Sandoff. Nearly half the distance to the next station had been covered, and at any moment Cossacks might be met coming from the opposite direction. He decided on a daring and uncertain plan—nothing less than to abandon the post road and strike across country toward the coast. Although Vladivostok was yet some sixty miles away, it was barely two thirds of that distance to the nearest point on the Sea of Japan.