Page:Harris Dickson--The black wolf's breed.djvu/209

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THE FLIGHT FROM SCEAUX
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of our mounts, one of the grooms dropping farther and farther in the rear. The distance between Jerome and myself, despite his frantic belabourings of his brave steed, grew steadily greater.

Just before we passed a crooked lane off to the left, leading whither I knew not, Jerome turned in his saddle and called to the two grooms now well to the rear.

"That way quick; to the Versailles road. Cut him off."

The fellows obeyed, reining their horses into a swinging lope, as, less hurried, they took the lane indicated. Jerome thence rode on after me alone. The situation was now becoming awkward. I had acted without cool consideration heretofore, taking the Paris road because it was the only one I knew, and trusting thereafter largely to fortune. Now, as I caught occasional glimpses of the city spires, the towers of Notre Dame, I must perforce remember I had no hopes from them. The crazed man behind knew the city well, while to me it was a labyrinth of difficulty. I had no friends, while he counted many. I must act, and that quickly. Had I but known enough to turn down that lane into the Versailles road I could have reached the palace without molestation, thanks to my good luck in picking the best horse of the lot. Thinking of the lane brought an idea which promised well.

Moderating my speed gradually I suffered Jerome to draw nearer. I then called over my shoulder that as we were now man to man, we might dismount and fight it out upon a piece of level sward beside the road. His