dune, riding grouped, with one or two in the lead,
swept a company of cavalrymen. Down the
slope they galloped, moonlight playing freely
upon them, bringing out every detail -- the glint
of arms, the movement of hat-brims, the lift and
fall of elbows -- pounding straight for the camp.
Another blast of the bugle, crisp and metallic,
and they swerved; they drew near, nearer still,
came close on the right, and swept past in a whirlwind
of sounds, thundering hoofs, cursing men,
slamming carbines, creaking saddles, snorting
horses. So they swept on into the north, pushing,
crowding, jostling, throwing back flying
gravel, odors of sweat, swirling dust-clouds. They
mounted rapidly over the rise, and became, as
the pursued, vacillating specks, and then disappeared
in the hollow beyond.

Stephen recovered himself. He swept his eyes
again over the horses, fie saw a change among
them. Three were calm, but not the other two.
Both of them were weaving faintly, and, even as
he sprang to them, one sank slowly to the ground.
Wondering, dazed, gripped in apprehension, he-bent
over it. The horse was a stranger, and it
was gasping its last breath. Dismayed, he turned
to the other. This horse also was a strange horse,
and it was white with foam and panting, also
run to death. Astonished, cold with apprehension,
he looked for Pat. But neither Pat nor the
sorrel was to be seen. Then the truth overwhelmed
him. The renegades, seeing fresh horses here, had
made a swift change. Pat was gone!

[[238]]

p237 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p238w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p239

v?