we'll make him go on again."
He shook the horse into his trot again, talking to him in a little low
voice that shook with excitement. Sure enough, after a moment the trot
sounded out behind us. It was as though our wraiths were riding behind
us, following us home. "I'll make sure," said Mr. Jermyn, pulling up
again.

"You're a cunning dog," he said gently. "You heard that?" Indeed, it
sounded uncanny. The unseen rider had feared to pull up, guessing that
we had guessed his intentions. Instead of pulling up he did a much more
ominous thing, he slowed his pace perceptibly. We could hear the change
in the beat of the horse-hoofs. "Cunning lad," said Mr. Jermyn. "I've
a good mind to shoot that man, Martin. He's following us. Pity it's so
dark. One can never be sure in the dark like this. But I don't know. I'd
like to see who it is."

We trotted on again at our usual pace. Presently, something occurred
to me. Mr. Jermyn, I said; "would you like me to see who it is? I could
slip off as we go. I could lie down flat so that he would pass against
the sky. Then you could come back for me."

He did not like the scheme at first. He said that it would be too dark
for me to see anybody; but that when we were nearer to the town it might
be done. So we rode on at our quick trot for a couple of more, hearing
always behind us a faint beat of
upon the road, like the echo of our own hoofs. After a time they stopped
suddenly, nor did we hear them again.

"D'you know what he's done, Martin?" said Mr. Jermyn.

"No, sir," I answered.

"He's muffled his horse's hoofs with duffle shoes. A sort of thick felt
slippers. He was in too great a hurry to do that before. There are the
lights of the town."

"Shall I get down, sir?"

"If you can without my pulling up. Don't speak. But lay your head on the
road. You'll hear the horse, then, if I'm right."

"Then I'll lie still," I said, "to see if I can see who it is."

"Yes. But make no sign. He may shoot. He may take you for a footpad.
I'll ride back to you in a minute."

He slowed down the horse so that I could slip off unheard on to the turf
by the roadside. When he had gone a little distance, I laid my ear to
the road. Sure enough, the noise of the other horse was faint but plain
in the distance, coming along on the road, avoiding the turf. The turf
vas trenched in many drains, so as to make dangerous riding at night. I
lay down flat on the turf, with my pistol in my hand. I was excited;