“Halt, there!”

Oriana glanced over her shoulder, and could see a sunray gleaming from something that he held in his right hand.  He had drawn a pistol from his holster.  She slackened her pace a little, and allowing Harold to take the lead, rode on in the line between him and the pursuer.  Harold turned in his saddle.  She could hear the tones of his voice rushing past her on the wind.

“Come no further with me, lest suspicion attach to yourself.  The good horse will bear me beyond pursuit.  Remember, it is for Arthur’s sake I have consented you should make this sacrifice.  God bless you! and farewell!”

A pistol-shot resounded in the air.  Oriana knew it was fired but to intimidate—­the distance was too great to give the leaden messenger a deadlier errand.  Yet she drew rein, and waited, breathless with excitement and swift motion, till Haralson came up.  He turned one reproachful glance upon her as he passed, and spurred on in pursuit.  Harold turned once again, to assure himself that she was unhurt, then waved his hand, and urging his swift steed to the utmost, sped on toward the forest which was now close at hand.  The two troopers soon came galloping up to where Oriana still sat motionless upon her saddle, watching the race with strained eyes and heaving bosom.

“Your prisoner has escaped,” she said; “spur on in pursuit.”

She knew that it was of no avail, for Harold had already disappeared among the mazes of the wood, and the sun was just dipping below the horizon.  Darkness would soon shroud the fugitive in its friendly mantle.  She turned Nelly’s head homeward, and cantered silently away in the gathering twilight.

CHAPTER XXVII.

When Captain Haralson and the two troopers reached the verge of the forest, they could trace for a short distance the hoof-prints of Harold’s horse, and followed them eagerly among the labyrinthine paths which the fugitive had made through the tangled shrubbery and among the briery thickets.  But soon the gloom of night closed in upon them in the depth of the silent wood, and they were left without a sign by which to direct the pursuit.  It was near midnight when they reached the further edge of the forest, and there, throwing fantastic gleams of red light among the shadows of the tall trees, they caught sight of what seemed to be the glimmer of a watchfire.  Soon after, the growl of a hound was heard, followed by a deep-mouthed bay, and approaching cautiously, they were hailed by the watchful sentinel.  It was a Confederate picket, posted on the outskirt of the forest, and Haralson, making himself known, rode up to where the party, awakened by their approach, had roused themselves from their blankets, and were standing with ready rifles beside the blazing fagots.

Haralson made known his errand to the officer in command, and the sentries were questioned, but all declared that nothing had disturbed their watch; if the fugitive had passed their line, he had succeeded in eluding their vigilance.