He was interrupted by the report of a revolver out in the darkness.  The trooper at the French window remained upright for a moment, then fell to his knees, and then forward upon the carpet.  For two or three seconds all eyes but Lucy’s and Ryder’s were fixed upon the window, and there was apprehension in every face.  Lucy’s eyes were upon Ryder’s hands; she saw the handcuff fall from one, saw him swing with a sudden, swift movement of the right arm, and the heavy manacle struck the trooper at his side on the temple, and the man fell without a groan.  Then Ryder made a dash for the French window, and was gone before a hand could be raised to stay him.  Lucy, who had had some understanding of his plan before he acted upon it, followed him swiftly, closing the windows after him; and she stood there, confronting the people, pale, but with determination in her face and the flash of courage in her eyes.  The trooper from the other side dashed across the room, faltered for a moment, perceiving that time would be lost in a struggle with the girl, and then turned and rushed back through the door.  The suddenness of all this had robbed the majority of the guests of their wits; they stood as if petrified.  The wounded trooper rose slowly from the floor—­it occurred to no one to offer to help him—­staggered a few steps into the room, and fell again, and lay amongst the guests, his blood dyeing the carpet at their feet.  Mean while Marcia had not moved; but now her white face had the expression of one listening with the intensity of an unspeakable fear for the message of death, and the sergeant in command was groping for the door, still dazed from the blow he had received, and almost blinded by the blood flowing from his wound.

Outside two troopers had jumped into their saddles, and were off in hot pursuit of the fugitive, who had galloped out of the thick cover of the orchard on Galah, Ryder’s beautiful gray, and was riding at a breakneck pace for the heavily-timbered country to the east.  It was a stern chase, and once Trooper Casey came so near to overhauling the gray horse that he ventured a revolver shot; but after that the hunted man drew away, and the troopers lost sight of him in the timber.  The pursuit was maintained for about an hour, and then the pursuers came upon Galah trotting quietly back towards Boobyalla, riderless and without a saddle.  Imagining that Solo had been swept from the horse by the limb of a tree, the troopers made a long search, and while they sought, Yarra—­for it was he who had led the police away on this wild-goose chase—­had doubled on his pursuers, and was making a bee-line for the station again on foot.  He was found in his bed at home two hours later, cowering under the blankets, pretending an overpowering fear of the shooting and the blood.