While I was yet hesitating, a storm of horse at full gallop went by, tearing, swearing, bearing away all the country before them.  Only a little pollard hedge kept us from their blood-shot eyes.  “Now is the time,” said my cousin Tom, so far as I could make out his words; “on their heels, I am safe, John, if I have only Winnie under me.  Winnie and I die together.”

Seeing this strong bent of his mind, stronger than any pains of death, I even did what his feeble eyes sometimes implored, and sometimes commanded.  With a strong sash, from his own hot neck, bound and twisted, tight as wax, around his damaged waist, I set him upon Winnie’s back, and placed his trembling feet in stirrups, with a band from one to another, under the good mare’s body; so that no swerve could throw him out:  and then I said, “Lean forward, Tom; it will stop your hurt from bleeding.”  He leaned almost on the neck of the mare, which, as I knew, must close the wound; and the light of his eyes was quite different, and the pain of his forehead unstrung itself, as if he felt the undulous readiness of her volatile paces under him.

“God bless you, John; I am safe,” he whispered, fearing to open his lungs much:  “who can come near my Winnie mare?  A mile of her gallop is ten years of life.  Look out for yourself, John Ridd.”  He sucked his lips, and the mare went off, as easy and swift as a swallow.

“Well,” thought I, as I looked at Kickums, ignobly cropping up a bit of grass, “I have done a very good thing, no doubt, and ought to be thankful to God for the chance.  But as for getting away unharmed, with all these scoundrels about me, and only a foundered horse to trust in—­good and spiteful as he is—­upon the whole, I begin to think that I have made a fool of myself, according to my habit.  No wonder Tom said, ‘Look out for yourself!’ I shall look out from a prison window, or perhaps even out of a halter.  And then, what will Lorna think of me?”

Being in this wistful mood, I resolved to abide awhile, even where fate had thrown me; for my horse required good rest no doubt, and was taking it even while he cropped, with his hind legs far away stretched out, and his forelegs gathered under him, and his muzzle on the mole-hills; so that he had five supportings from his mother earth.  Moreover, the linhay itself was full of very ancient cow dung; than which there is no balmier and more maiden soporific.  Hence I resolved, upon the whole, though grieving about breakfast, to light a pipe, and go to sleep; or at least until the hot sun should arouse the flies.

I may have slept three hours, or four, or it might be even five—­for I never counted time, while sleeping—­when a shaking more rude than the old landlady’s, brought me back to the world again.  I looked up, with a mighty yawn; and saw twenty, or so, of foot-soldiers.

“This linhay is not yours,” I said, when they had quite aroused me, with tongue, and hand, and even sword-prick:  “what business have you here, good fellows?”