"Hello! we're not the only ones jogging along. Eh, what's that?"
Something flashed brightly, like silver reflecting moonlight;
then came a spark of flame, which died immediately, and later
Maurice caught an echo which resembled the bursting of a leaf
against the lips. "Come; that looks like a pistol shot."
Again the flash of silver, broader and clearer this time; and
Maurice could now separate the shadow-shapes. A carriage of some
sort rolled from side to side, and two smaller shadows followed
its wild flight. One--two--three times Maurice saw the sparks and
heard the faint reports. He became excited. Something
extraordinary was taking place on the lonely road. Suddenly the
top of the carriage replied with spiteful flashes of red. Then
the moon came out from behind the clouds, and the picture was
vividly outlined. Two continuous flashes of silver. . . .
Cuirassiers! Maurice loosened the rein, and the horse went
forward as smoothly as a sail. The distance grew visibly less.
The carriage opened fire again, and Maurice heard the sinister
m-m-m of a bullet winging past him.
"The wrong man may get hit, Bucephalus," he said, bending to the
neck of the horse; "which is not unusual.
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