rmit. No, it is not Lawton. I am sorry."

He raised his arm and fired. My horse started at the sound of his
shot, and as I tried to quiet him, I saw my father lift Mademoiselle
to the saddle.

"Yes," he said again, "I think it is time to be going. These men seem to
have a most commendable determination. Ha! There are two more of them.
Put your horse to the gallop, my son. The tide is out, and we can manage
the marsh."

"The marsh!" I exclaimed.

"Quite," he replied tranquilly. "If Brutus is alive, he will have a boat
near the dunes opposite. It seems as though we might be obliged to take
an ocean voyage."

It seemed to me he had gone quite mad. The marsh, he knew as well as I,
was as full of holes as a piece of cheese. Even in the daytime one could
hardly ride across it. And then I knew that what he said was true, that
he would stop at nothing; and suddenly a fear came over me. For the first
time I feared the quiet, pleasant man who rode beside my bridle rein, as
though we were traversing the main street of our town.

"Ah," said my father, "it is pleasant to have a little exercise. Give him
the spurs Henry. We shall either get across or we shall not. There is no
use being cautious."

I put my horse over a ditch, and straight ahead, I may have ridden four
hundred yards with the even beating of his horse behind me, before what I
feared happened. My horse stumbled, and the pull of my bridle barely got
him up again. I gave him the spur, but he was failing. In a quarter of a
minute he had fallen again, and this time the bridle did not raise him. I
sprang free of him before he had entirely slipped down in the soft sea
mud. He was lashing about desperately, nor could I get him to answer when
I pulled at the bridle. My father reined up beside me and dismounted.

"His leg is broken," he said. "It is inopportune. Ah, they are still
after us." And he turned to look behind him.

"Why are you waiting?" I cried. "Ride on, sir!"

"And leave you here with the paper in your pocket?" said my father. "The
fall has quite got the better of you. The other pistol, Mademoiselle, if
you have finished loading it. Here they come, to be sure. Would you not
think the fools would realize I can hit them?"

He fired into the darkness and a riderless horse ran almost on top of us.
With a snort of fright, he reared and wheeled, and a second shot answered
my father's.

"Ah," said my father, "they always will shoot before they can see. The