FLIGHT
Further parley was useless. "Thou wilt answer for yonder runaway slave before to-morrow's sun goes down," said the horseman as he and his companion rushed on Noren.
"Thou wilt answer to me now, before to-morrow's sun rises, for the royal horse thou hast maimed," thundered Norendra Nath as he suddenly sprang on one of the horsemen and sent him sprawling on the ground with a blow with the back of his sword. "I claim this horse in exchange."
"And I claim this," screamed Jelekha as she clutched the bridle of the other horse and drove her dagger into the left arm of the horseman. The wounded man avoided a second blow by leaping on the ground.
The unseated horsemen now drew their swords and their brows were dark as midnight; but Noren wished to stop further bloodshed. "Go back," he said, "or you may find a woman's dagger more than a match for your swords, as your master has done before. Go back and tell the black Musroor that you killed an officer's horse and paid for it with yours. Take care of the animal we leave by yonder tree, and the wounded man requires care and tendance too. I spare your lives to-night, for death by the rope, sooner or later, is writ on your foreheads."
Resistance was useless. The wounded man, leaning on his companion, sullenly left the place.
Nor did Noren and Jelekha wait long. The two horses were fresh, the night wind was cold, and they left in a canter. Jelekha led, and Noren could scarcely keep pace with the wilful creature. Her hair was loose, her dress fluttered, her laughter rang
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