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Strang, Herbert

"A Story of the Times of Benbow"


Luckily the moon had risen, and was throwing a light, dim but
sufficient, upon the track. Birds clattered out of the trees as we
sped past; wild creatures of the wood, terrified at the unwonted
disturbance of the night, scurried across our path. In spite of the
moonlight, and because of the deep shadows it cast, we narrowly
escaped being dashed from our horses by low-hanging branches of the
trees on either side.
So we raced on for mile after mile without pause or mitigation of
our pace. The track wound about in baffling curves, so that we
could see but a little distance ahead. Once or twice I thought I
caught a glimpse of moving objects before us, but 'twas but a trick
of the moonlight. We dared not stop to listen for sounds of the
fugitives; I felt that every second was of vital import, and 'twas
not until we had come into a stretch of country clear of trees, our
horses' hoofs falling silently on the soft turf, that we caught the
faint rustle of the sea. I knew not how far distant it was; sounds
carry far and are deceptive at night; we smote the flanks of our
horses and rode as for a wager.
Suddenly a shrill whistle cut the air.
"A signal!" I said to Cludde, riding at my side. "Are they calling
assistance?"
"'Tis a call for a boat, without doubt," he replied. "They have got
to the shore."
Sick with fear that we were too late, I pressed my horse forward at
a mad and reckless gallop, outpacing Cludde altogether.


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