he house. The horse crept forward, silent as a
phantom. They were clear of the archway. "Now!" whispered Delmonte. "For
life, Aquila!" and Aquila went, for life.

CHAPTER XII.

FOR LIFE.

"If we can put the fire between us and them," said Captain Jack, "we
shall get off."

For a moment it seemed as if they might do it. Already they saw the road
before them, the sand glowing red in the firelight. A few more
strides--Just then, a Spanish soldier came running round the corner of
the burning cane-patch, whirling his blazing torch. He saw them, and
raised a shout. "_Alerta! alerta!_ fugitives! after them! shoot down the
Mambi dogs!"

There was a rush to the corner where a score of horses stood tethered to
the fence. A dozen men leaped into the saddle and came thundering in
pursuit. Aquila gave one glance back; then stretched his long lean
neck, and settled into a gallop.

Before them the road lay straight for some distance, red here in the
crimson light, further on white under a late moon. On one side the woods
rose black and still, on the other lay open fields crossed here and
there by barbed wire fences. No living creature was to be seen on the
road. No sound was heard save the muffled beat of the horse's hoofs on
the sand, and behind, the shouts and cries of their pursuers. Were they
growing louder, those shouts? Were they gaining, or was the distance
between them widening? Rita turned her head once to look back. "I
wouldn't do that!" said Delmonte, quietly. "Do you mind, Miss Montfort,
if I swing you round in front of me? Don't be alarmed, Aquila is all
right."

Before Rita could speak, he had dropped the reins on the horse's neck,
and lifted her bodily round to the peak of the saddle before him. "I'm
sorry!" he said, apologetically. "I fear it is very uncomfortable;
but--I can--a--manage better, don't you see?" But to himself he was
saying, "Lucky I got that done before the beggars began to shoot. Now
they may fire all they like. Stupid duffer I was, not to start right."

He had felt the girl's light figure quiver as he lifted her.

"Don't be frightened, Miss Montfort," he said again. "There isn't a
horse in the country that can touch Aquila when he is roused."

"I am not frightened," said Rita. "I am--excited, I suppose. It is like
riding on wind, isn't it?"

It was true that she felt no fear; neither did she realise the peril of
their position. It was one of the dreams come true, that was all. Sh