Twice he glanced
back to see who followed, but the volume of dust which rolled
after him obscured all behind. He could hear the far-off hammer
of hoofs, but this, mingling with the noise of his own horse,
confused him as to the number of pursuers. He reasoned that he
was well out of range, for there came no report of firearms. The
road presently described a semi-circle, passing through a meager
orchard. Once beyond this he turned again in the saddle.
"Only one; that is not so bad as it might be. It is one to one."
But a second glance told him who this solitary pursuer was. "The
devil!" he laughed--as one of Tasso's heroes might have laughed!-
-"The devil! how that man loves me!" He was confident that the
white horse would never overtake the black.
On they flew, pursued and pursuer. At length Maurice bit his lip
and frowned. The white horse was growing larger; the distance
between was lessening, slowly but certainly.
"Good boy!" he said encouragingly to the Mecklenberg. "Good boy!"
Deserted farm houses swept past; hills rose and vanished, but
still the white horse crept up, up, up. The distance ere another
half mile had gone had diminished to four hundred yards; from
four hundred it fell to three hundred, from three hundred to two
hundred.
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