Luckily the moon had risen, and was throwing a light, dim but sufficient, upon the track.  Birds clattered out of the trees as we sped past; wild creatures of the wood, terrified at the unwonted disturbance of the night, scurried across our path.  In spite of the moonlight, and because of the deep shadows it cast, we narrowly escaped being dashed from our horses by low-hanging branches of the trees on either side.

So we raced on for mile after mile without pause or mitigation of our pace.  The track wound about in baffling curves, so that we could see but a little distance ahead.  Once or twice I thought I caught a glimpse of moving objects before us, but ’twas but a trick of the moonlight.  We dared not stop to listen for sounds of the fugitives; I felt that every second was of vital import, and ’twas not until we had come into a stretch of country clear of trees, our horses’ hoofs falling silently on the soft turf, that we caught the faint rustle of the sea.  I knew not how far distant it was; sounds carry far and are deceptive at night; we smote the flanks of our horses and rode as for a wager.

Suddenly a shrill whistle cut the air.

“A signal!” I said to Cludde, riding at my side.  “Are they calling assistance?”

“’Tis a call for a boat, without doubt,” he replied.  “They have got to the shore.”

Sick with fear that we were too late, I pressed my horse forward at a mad and reckless gallop, outpacing Cludde altogether.  We were now again among trees, and, having come out of the moonlight, I could not at first see more than a yard or two ahead.  But on a sudden the dim track before me was wholly blotted out by a dark figure.  It loomed larger as I approached, and my heart leapt with the hope that it was Vetch’s overburdened horse dropping behind.  The rider could not escape; there was a bank on either side of the track.  I was within a dozen yards of him when he reined up as if to dismount and seek the shelter of the woodland, and then I perceived with distress that whoever it might be it was not Vetch; the horse had no second burden.

Next moment there was a flash and a roar; a bullet grazed my arm; finding himself closer pressed than he thought, the fellow had turned in his saddle and fired at me.  He uttered an oath when he saw me riding towards him unchecked.  I was level with him, I drew my horse alongside; and raising my cutlass above my left shoulder I brought it down with a swinging cut upon the man.  With a cry he toppled from his saddle, and I shot past, in a headlong rush towards the now thunderous rumbling of the sea.

’Twas but a few moments afterwards that I found myself falling as it seemed into space.  In my heedless and impetuous course I had come unawares to the edge of a cliff.  My horse fell, flinging me clean over his crupper.  I had given myself up for lost when I was suddenly caught as by outstretched arms, in the entangling foliage of a shrub, and as I lay there, dazed, I heard a sickening thud far below me, and guessed that no such friendly obstacle had saved my poor horse from death.