As they entered it and turned to the left, Mary, with Alice again in her
arms, moved somewhat ahead of her companion, her indifferent
horsemanship having compelled him to drop back to avoid a prickly bush.
His horse was just quickening his pace to regain the lost position, when
a man sprang up from the ground on the farther side of the highway,
snatched a carbine from the earth and cried: "Halt!"
The dark recumbent forms of six or eight others could be seen, enveloped
in their blankets, lying about a few red coals. Mary turned a frightened
look backward and met the eyes of her companion.
"Move a little faster," said he, in a low, clear voice. As she promptly
did so she heard him answer the challenge, as his horse trotted softly
after hers.
"Don't stop us, my friend; we're taking a sick child to the doctor."
"Halt, you hound!" the cry rang out; and as Mary glanced back three or
four men were just leaping into the road. But she saw also her
companion, his face suffused with an earnestness that was almost an
agony, rise in his stirrups with the stoop of his shoulders all gone,
and wildly cry:
"Go!"
She smote the horse and flew.
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