“At any rate,” I thought, “there can be little danger.  What with Casimir’s fears and Jacques’ vigilance I shall receive plenty of warning.”

I was never an advocate of overboldness, but our guide erred in the other extreme.  He became more and more nervous and fidgety, stopping a dozen times to listen, fancying he heard the beat of horses’ hoofs in our rear, and declaring we were being followed.  And the more his nervousness increased, the more Jacques and I laughed at his fears.

It was fast getting dark when we entered a narrow road, where there was scarcely room for Jacques and Casimir to ride abreast.  To the right was a wall of rock, to the left a steep stony slope, on which one might easily break a limb if not one’s neck.  I rode a little in advance; Jacques on the edge of the slope, and Casimir next to the wall.  It was so dark that we could see hardly more than a few yards ahead, and I warned Jacques to be careful.

Suddenly our guide, crying, “Stop a minute, monsieur, my horse has a stone in its foot!” jumped to the ground.

What the reason was I had no suspicion at the time, though it was easy enough to guess afterwards; but the animal began plunging and rearing so violently that its owner had hard work to hold it.  Jacques had no time to escape the danger, and, before I realized what had happened, his frightened horse, edging away from the kicking creature at its side, toppled over the slope.

When in after days I related the story to Felix, he laughed at my simplicity, saying I ought to have guessed the secret from the beginning; but, as a matter of fact, even when my servant disappeared I had no thought of treachery.  I hugged the wall closely, and looked round.

“Get down, monsieur,” cried Casimir loudly; “get down and help me.  The beast has gone crazy.”

Now I could dismount only in front of the plunging brute, and having no desire to be kicked to death, and the danger being pressing, I seized my pistol and shot the animal in the forehead.  Being a keen lover of horses I hated to do it, but there was no alternative.

The effect of the shot produced a far more serious result than I intended.  The poor beast, plunging madly, must have kicked Casimir in its last desperate struggle, for a scream of agony rang out wildly on the night air, and I could just distinguish the man’s body lying motionless.

This was not all.  The report from my pistol was quickly followed by two others, and a couple of bullets whizzed past my head.  The next instant I heard the clatter of hoofs, and two horsemen came tearing along the road toward me.  Bewildered by these sudden and startling events, I had yet sufficient presence of mind to realize that I had been trapped, and that my only chance of escape lay in flight.

Turning my animal’s head, I prepared to gallop off, when I found my way barred by another horseman, who had come up during the struggle.  The sudden movement saved my life; he was in the very act of firing when I struck at him fiercely, and he dropped across his saddle with a cry of pain.