PURSUIT.

As they hurried on, it grew gradually lighter, so that they were able
to advance more rapidly. The path remained about the same, winding as
before, and with the same alternations of roots, stones, and swamp;
but the daylight made all the difference in the world, and they were
now able to urge their horses at the top of their speed. The Indian
who was at their head was able to keep there without much apparent
effort, never holding back or falling behind, though if the ground
had been smoother he could scarcely have done so. With every step the
dawn advanced, until at last the sun rose, and all the forest grew
bright in the beams of day. A feeling of hope and joy succeeded to
the late despondency which had been creeping over them; but this only
stimulated them to redoubled exertions, so that they might not, after
all, find themselves at last cheated out of these bright hopes.

That they were now pursued they all felt confident. At three o'clock
the absence of the sentry must have been discovered, and, of course,
the flight of Claude. Thereupon the alarm would at once be given.
Cazeneau would probably be aroused, and would proceed to take action
immediately. Even under what might be the most favorable
circumstances to them, it was not likely that there would be a delay
of more than an hour.

Besides, the pursuer had an advantage over them. They had a start of
three hours; but those three hours were spent in darkness, when they
were able to go over but little ground. All that they had toiled so
long in order to traverse, their pursuers could pass over in one
quarter the time, and one quarter the labor. They were virtually not
more than one hour in advance of the enemy, who would have fresher
horses, with which to lessen even this small advantage. And by the
most favorable calculation, there remained yet before them at least
thirty miles, over a rough and toilsome country. Could they hope to
escape?

Such were the thoughts that came to Claude's mind, and such the
question that came to him. That question he did not care to discuss
with himself. He could only resolve to keep up the flight till the
last moment, and then resist to the bitter end.

But now there arose a new danger, which brought fresh difficulties
with it, and filled Claude with new despondency. This danger arose
from a quarter in which he was most assailable to fear and
anxiety--from Mimi.

He had never ceased, since they first left, to wat