and driving my spurs into the beast's flanks,
I went careering down the street at a gallop, gripping tightly with my
knees, whilst the stirrups, which I had had no time to step into, flew
wildly about my legs.

A pistol cracked behind me; then another, and a sharp, stinging pain in
the shoulder warned me that I was hit. But I took no heed of it then.
The wound could not be serious, else I had already been out of
the saddle, and it would be time enough to look to it when I had
outdistanced my pursuers. I say my pursuers, for already there were
hoofbeats behind me, and I knew that those gentlemen had taken to their
horses. But, as you may recall, I had on their arrival noted the
jaded condition of their cattle, whilst I bestrode a horse that was
comparatively fresh, so that pursuit had but small terrors for me.
Nevertheless, they held out longer, and gave me more to do than I had
imagined would be the case. For nigh upon a half-hour I rode, before I
could be said to have got clear of them, and then for aught I knew
they were still following, resolved to hound me down by the aid of such
information as they might cull upon their way.

I was come by then to the Garonne. I drew rein beside the swiftly
flowing stream, winding itself like a flood of glittering silver between
the black shadows of its banks. A little while I sat there listening,
and surveying the stately, turreted chateau that loomed, a grey, noble
pile, beyond the water. I speculated what demesne this might be, and I
realized that it was probably Lavedan.

I pondered what I had best do, and in the end I took the resolve to swim
the river and knock at the gates. If it were indeed Lavedan, I had but
to announce myself, and to one of my name surely its hospitalities would
be spread. If it were some other household, even then the name of Marcel
de Bardelys should suffice to ensure me a welcome.

By spurring and coaxing, I lured my steed into the river. There is a
proverb having it that though you may lead a horse to the water you
cannot make him drink. It would have now applied to my case, for
although I had brought mine to the water I could not make him swim; or,
at least, I could not make him breast the rush of the stream. Vainly
did I urge him and try to hold him; he plunged frantically, snorted,
coughed, and struggled gamely, but the current was bearing us swiftly
away, and his efforts brought us no nearer to the opposite shore. At
last I slipped from his b