They had now approached the edge of the plain which Oriana had pointed
out on the preceding day. The sun, which had been tinging the western
sky with gorgeous hues, was peering from among masses of purple and
golden clouds, within an hour's space of the horizon. Captain Haralson,
interested and excited by his disputation, had been riding leisurely
along by the side of his prisoner, taking but little note of the route
or of the lapse of time.
"Cease your unprofitable argument," cried Oriana, "and let us have a
race over this beautiful plain. Look! 'tis as smooth as a race-course,
and I will lay you a wager, Captain Haralson, that my Nelly will lead
you to yonder clump, by a neck."
She touched her horse lightly with the whip, and turned from the road
into the meadows.
"It is late, Miss Weems," said the Southron, "and I must report at
headquarters before sundown. Besides, I am badly mounted, and it would
be but a sorry victory to distance me. I pray you, let us return."
"Nonsense! Nelly is not breathed. I must have one fair run over this
field; and, gentlemen, I challenge you both to outstrip Nelly if you
can."
With a merry shout, she struck the fleet mare smartly on the flank, and
the spirited animal, more at the sound of her voice than aroused by the
whip-lash, stretched forward her neck and sprang over the tufted level.
Harold waved his hand, as if in invitation, to his companion, and was
soon urging his powerful horse in the same direction. Haralson shouted
to them to stop, but they only turned their heads and beckoned to him
gaily, and plunging the spurs into the strong but heavy-hoofed charger
that he rode, he followed them as best he could. He kept close in their
rear very well at first, but he soon observed that he was losing
distance, and that the two swift steeds in front, that had been held in
check a little at the start, were now skimming the smooth meadow at a
tremendous pace.
"Halt!" he cried, at the top of his lungs; but either they heard it not
or heeded it not, for they still swept on, bending low forward in the
saddle, almost side by side.
A vague suspicion crossed his mind.
"Halt, there!"
Oriana glanced over her shoulder, and could see a sunray gleaming from
something that he held in his right hand. He had drawn a pistol from his
holster. She slackened her pace a little, and allowing Harold to take
the lead, rode on in the line between him and the pursuer. Harold turned
in his saddle. She could hear the tones of his voice rushing past her on
the wind.
"Come no further with me, lest suspicion attach to yourself. The good
horse will bear me beyond pursuit. Remember, it is for Arthur's sake I
have consented you should make this sacrifice. God bless you! and
farewell!"
A pistol-shot resounded in the air. Oriana knew it was fired but to
intimidate--the distance was too great to give the leaden messenger a
deadlier errand. Yet she drew rein, and waited, breathless with
excitement and swift motion, till Haralson came up. He turned one
reproachful glance upon her as he passed, and spurred on in pursuit.
Harold turned once again, to assure himself that she was unhurt, then
waved his hand, and urging his swift steed to the utmost, sped on toward
the forest which was now close at hand. The two troopers soon came
galloping up to where Oriana still sat motionless upon her saddle,
watching the race with strained eyes and heaving bosom.
"Your prisoner has escaped," she said; "spur on in pursuit."
She knew that it was of no avail, for Harold had already disappeared
among the mazes of the wood, and the sun was just dipping below the
horizon. Darkness would soon shroud the fugitive in its friendly mantle.
She turned Nelly's head homeward, and cantered silently away in the
gathering twilight.