The
rearguard turned tail and fled. The vanguard had simply been swept off the
scene, and I saw them spurring up the slope with the cattle surging after
them. The plan had been thought out to a nicety and had worked to
perfection. I was free, free for Margaret. I sat down again dizzied and
happy.
My rescuers took no notice of me but ran down the road in a body and
stood round the sergeant. After some excited talk they carried him back,
called on me to aid, and rammed him into the coach, where he lay huddled
on the seat in front of me. Without so much as a word to me, the commander
pulled our driver off the box, ordered a man up in his place, climbed
after him, and said briefly, "Go like the devil!"
The carriage turned up a rough lane which ran eastward out of the high
road opposite the farm, leaving most of my rescuers standing uncertain in
a group. The driver cut his horses savagely with his whip, and we went at
a hard gallop. The jolting tumbled me about in the coach, and I had hard
work, shackled as I was, to keep the sergeant on the seat. He was still
alive, though so hideously injured that death could only be a question of
minutes.
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