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The
pause
may
have
proceeded
from
surprise
;
but
,
whether
or
no
,
it
was
favourable
to
the
fugitives
.
During
the
twenty
seconds
it
continued
,
the
latter
had
made
good
use
of
their
time
,
and
accomplished
the
circuit
required
to
put
them
on
the
path
of
safety
.
Only
on
the
path
,
however
.
Their
escape
was
still
problematical
:
for
the
steeds
,
perceiving
their
intention
,
wheeled
suddenly
into
the
line
of
pursuit
,
and
went
galloping
after
,
with
snorts
and
screams
that
betrayed
a
spiteful
determination
to
overtake
them
.
From
that
moment
it
became
a
straight
unchanging
chase
across
country
--
a
trial
of
speed
between
the
horses
without
riders
,
and
the
horses
that
were
ridden
.
At
intervals
did
Maurice
carry
his
chin
to
his
shoulder
;
and
though
still
preserving
the
distance
gained
at
the
start
,
his
look
was
not
the
less
one
of
apprehension
.
Alone
he
would
have
laughed
to
scorn
his
pursuers
.
He
knew
that
the
blood-bay
--
himself
a
prairie
steed
--
could
surpass
any
competitor
of
his
race
.
But
the
mare
was
delaying
him
.
She
was
galloping
slower
than
he
had
ever
seen
her
--
as
if
unwilling
,
or
not
coveting
escape
--
like
a
horse
with
his
head
turned
away
from
home
!
"
What
can
it
mean
?
"
muttered
the
mustanger
,
as
he
checked
his
pace
,
to
accommodate
it
to
that
of
his
companion
.
"
If
there
should
be
any
baulk
at
the
crossing
,
we
're
lost
!
A
score
of
seconds
will
make
the
difference
.
"
"
We
keep
our
distance
,
do
n't
we
?
"
inquired
his
fellow-fugitive
,
noticing
his
troubled
look
.
"
So
far
,
yes
.
Unfortunately
there
's
an
obstruction
ahead
.
It
remains
to
be
seen
how
we
shall
get
over
it
.
I
know
you
are
a
clever
rider
,
and
can
take
a
long
leap
.
But
your
mount
?
I
'm
not
so
sure
of
the
mare
.
You
know
her
better
than
I.
Do
you
think
she
can
carry
you
over
--
"
"
Over
what
,
sir
?
"
