neighbouring field,
and apparently making for a thick grove at a considerable distance from
where he was standing. As to the blind beggar and the child, they had
disappeared--probably hiding somewhere near by--but de Sigognac did
not waste a second thought on them; throwing off his own cloak, lest it
should impede him, he started swiftly in pursuit of the flying enemy and
their fair prize, with fury and despair in his heart. He was agile and
vigorous, lithe of frame, fleet of foot, the very figure for a runner,
and he quickly began to gain on the horsemen. As soon as they became
aware of this one of them drew a pistol from his girdle and fired at
their pursuer, but missed him; whereupon de Sigognac, bounding rapidly
from side to side as he ran, made it impossible for them to take aim at
him, and effectually prevented their arresting his course in that way.
The man who had Isabelle in front of him tried to ride on in advance,
and leave the other two to deal with the baron, but the young actress
struggled so violently on the horse's neck, and kept clutching so
persistently at the bridle, that his rider could not urge him to his
greatest speed. Meantime de Sigognac was steadily gaining upon them;
without slackening his pace he had managed to draw his sword from the
scabbard, and brandished it aloft, ready for action, as he ran. It is
true that he was one against three--that he was on foot while they were
on horseback--but he had not time to consider the odds against him, and
he seemed possessed of the strength of a giant in Isabelle's behalf.
Making a prodigious effort, he suddenly increased his speed, and coming
up with the two horsemen, who were a little behind the other one,
quickly disposed of them, by vigorously pricking their horses' flanks
with the point of his sword; for, what with fright and pain, the
animals, after plunging violently, threw off all restraint and
bolted--dashing off across country as if the devil were after them, and
carrying their riders with them, just as de Sigognac had expected
and intended that they should do. The brave young baron was nearly
spent--panting, almost sobbing, as he struggled desperately on--feeling
as if his heart would burst at every agonizing throb; but he was indued
with supernatural strength and endurance, and as Isabelle's voice
reached his ear calling, "Help, de Sigognac, help!" he cleared with a
bound the space that separated them, and leaping up to catch the broad
leathe