’Twas the blast of a bugle, and came from behind the hill in front of us. And at the same moment I understood. It must be Sir George Chudleigh’s cavalry returning, on news of their comrades’ defeat, and we were riding straight toward them, as into a trap.
Now what could have made me forgetful of this danger I cannot explain, unless it be that our thorough victory over the rebels had given me the notion that the country behind us was clear of foes. And Sir Bevill must have had a notion we were going straight to Looe with Billy. At any rate, there was no time to be lost: for my presence was a danger to Delia as well. I cast a glance about me. There was no place to hide.
“Quick!” I cried; “follow me, and ride for dear life!”
And striking spur into Molly I turn’d sharp off the road and gallop’d across the moor to the left, with Delia close after me.
We had gone about two hundred yards only when I heard a shout, and glancing over my right shoulder, saw a green banner waving on the crest of the road, and gathered about it the vanguard of the troop—some score of dragoons: and these, having caught sight of us, were pausing a moment to watch.
The shout presently was followed by another; to which I made no answer, but held on my way, with the nose of Delia’s horse now level with my stirrup: for I guess’d that my dress had already betrayed us. And this was the case; for at the next glance I saw five or six dragoons detach themselves from the main body, and gallop in a direction at an acute angle to ours. On they came, yelling to us to halt, and scattering over the moor to intercept us.
Not choosing, however, to be driven eastward, I kept a straight course and trusted to our horses’ fleetness to carry us by them, out of reach of their shot. In the pause of their first surprise we had stolen two hundred yards more. I counted and found eight men thus in pursuit of us: and to my joy heard the bugle blown again, and saw the rest of the troop, now gathering fast above, move steadily along the road without intention to follow. Doubtless the news of the Cornish success made them thus wary of their good order.
Still, eight men were enough to run from; and now the nearest let fly with his piece—more to frighten us, belike, than with any other view, for we were far out of range. But it grew clear that if we held on our direction they must cut us off: as you may see by these two arrows, the long thin one standing for our own course, the thicker and shorter for that of the dragoons.
Only now with good hope I saw a hill rising not half a mile in front, and somewhat to the right of our course: and thought I “if we can gain the hollow to the left of it, and put the hill between us, they must ride over it or round—in either case losing much time.” So, pointing this out to Delia, who rode on my left (to leave my pistol arm free and at the same time be screen’d by me from shot of the dragoons) I drove my spurs deep and called to Molly to make her best pace.
The enemy divin’d our purpose: and in a minute ’twas a desperate race for the entrance to the hollow. But our horses were the faster, and we the lighter riders; so that we won, with thirty yards to spare, from the foremost:—not without damage, however; for finding himself baulked, he sent a bullet at us which cut neatly through my off rein, so that my bridle was henceforward useless and I could guide Molly with knee and voice alone. Delia’s bay had shied at the sound of it, and likely enough saved my mistress’ life by this; for the bullet must have pass’d within a foot before her.
Down the hollow we raced with three dragoons at our heels, the rest going round the hill. But they did little good by so doing, for after the hollow came a broad, dismal sheet of water (by name Dozmare Pool, I have since heard) about a mile round and bank’d with black peat. Galloping along the left shore of this, we cut them off by near half a mile. But the three behind followed doggedly, though dropping back with every stride.
Beyond the pool came a green valley; and a stream flowing down it, which we jump’d easily. Glancing at Delia as she landed on the further side, I noted that her cheeks were glowing, and her eyes brimful of mirth.
“Say, Jack,” she cried; “is not this better than love of women?”
“In Heaven’s name,” I called out, “take care!”
But ’twas too late. The green valley here melted into a treacherous bog, in the which her bay was already plunging over his fetlocks, and every moment sinking deeper.
“Throw me the rein!” I shouted, and catching the bridle close by the bit, lean’d over and tried to drag the horse forward. By this, Molly also was over hoofs in liquid mud. For a minute and more we heav’d and splashed: and all the while the dragoons, seeing our fix, were shouting and drawing nearer and nearer. But just as a brace of bullets splashed into the slough at our feet, we stagger’d to the harder slope, and were
