rds burst through them and plunged on into the second
troop. For a space the gallant rustics held their own, and the dense
mass of men and horses swayed backwards and forwards, with the swirling
sword-blades playing above them in flashes of angry light. Then blue
coats began to break from among the russet, the fight rolled wildly back
for a hundred paces, the dense throng was split asunder, and the Royal
Guards came pouring through the rent, and swerved off to right and left
through hedges and over ditches, stabbing and hacking at the fleeing
horsemen. The whole scene, with the stamping horses, tossing manes,
shouts of triumph or despair, gasping of hard-drawn breath and musical
clink and clatter of steel, was to us upon the hill like some wild
vision, so swiftly did it come and so swiftly go. A sharp, stern
bugle-call summoned the Blues back into the road, where they formed up
and trotted slowly away before fresh squadrons could come up from the
camp. The sun gleamed and the river rippled as ever, and there was
nothing save the long litter of men and horses to mark the course of the
hell blast which had broken so suddenly upon us.

As the Blues retired we observed that a single officer brought up the
rear, riding very slowly, as though it went much against his mood to
turn his back even to an army. The space betwixt the troop and him was
steadily growing greater, yet he made no effort to quicken his pace,
but jogged quietly on, looking back from time to time to see if he were
followed. The same thought sprang into my comrade's mind and my own at
the same instant, and we read it in each other's faces.

'This path,' cried he eagerly. 'It brings us out beyond the grove, and
is in the hollow all the way.'

'Lead the horses until we get on better ground,' I answered. 'We may
just cut him off if we are lucky.'

There was no time for another word, for we hurried off down the uneven
track, sliding and slipping on the rain-soaked turf. Springing into our
saddles we dashed down the gorge, through the grove, and so out on to
the road in time to see the troop disappear in the distance, and to meet
the solitary officer face to face.

He was a sun-burned, high-featured man, with black mustachios, mounted
on a great raw-boned chestnut charger. As we broke out on to the road he
pulled up to have a good look at us. Then, having fully made up his mind
as to our hostile intent, he drew his sword, plucked a pistol out of his
holster