ative or two--the men who had followed us--rush to intercept
me, and I think a spear was flung. But in a flash we were past them,
and their cries faded behind me. I found the bridle, reached for the
stirrups, and galloped straight for the sunset and for freedom.

CHAPTER XVIII

HOW A MAN MAY SOMETIMES PUT HIS TRUST IN A HORSE

I had long passed the limit of my strength. Only constant fear and
wild alternations of hope had kept me going so long, and now that I was
safe I became light-headed in earnest. The wonder is that I did not
fall off. Happily the horse was good and the ground easy, for I was
powerless to do any guiding. I simply sat on his back in a silly glow
of comfort, keeping a line for the dying sun, which I saw in a nick of
the Iron Crown Mountain. A sort of childish happiness possessed me.
After three days of imminent peril, to be free was to be in fairyland.
To be swishing through the long bracken or plunging among the
breast-high flowers of the meadowlands in a world of essential lights
and fragrances, seemed scarcely part of mortal experience. Remember
that I was little more than a lad, and that I had faced death so often
of late that my mind was all adrift. To be able to hope once more,
nay, to be allowed to cease both from hope and fear, was like a deep
and happy opiate to my senses. Spent and frail as I was, my soul swam
in blessed waters of ease.

The mood did not last long. I came back to earth with a shock, as the
schimmel stumbled at the crossing of a stream. I saw that the darkness
was fast falling, and with the sight panic returned to me. Behind me I
seemed to hear the sound of pursuit. The noise was in my ears, but
when I turned it ceased, and I saw only the dusky shoulders of hills.

I tried to remember what Arcoll had told me about his headquarters, but
my memory was wiped clean. I thought they were on or near the highway,
but I could not remember where the highway was. Besides, he was close
to the enemy, and I wanted to get back into the towns, far away from
the battle-line. If I rode west I must come in time to villages, where
I could hide myself. These were unworthy thoughts, but my excuse must
be my tattered nerves. When a man comes out of great danger, he is apt
to be a little deaf to the call of duty.

Suddenly I became ashamed. God had preserved me from deadly perils,
but not that I might cower in some shelter. I had a mission as clear
as Laputa's. For the