Вершник без голови

Chapter 16

           "IfIcanbutflingoneoftheminhistracks,itmayhindertheothersfromattemptingtheleap;ordelaythem—longenoughforthemustangtomakeitsescape.Thebigsorrelisleading.Hewillmakethespringfirst.Thepistol’sgoodforahundredpaces.He’swithinrangenow!"

           Simultaneouswiththelastwordscamethecrackofthesix-shooter.Thelargestofthestallions—asorrelincolour—rolledheadlonguponthesward;hiscarcassfallingtransverselyacrossthelinethatledtotheleap.

           Half-a-dozenothers,closefollowing,wereinstantlybroughttoastand;andthenthewholecavallada!

           Themustangerstayednottonotetheirmovements.Takingadvantageoftheconfusioncausedbythefalloftheirleader,hereservedthefireoftheotherfivechambers;and,wheelingtothewest,spurredonafterthespottedmustang,nowfaronitswaytowardstheglisteningpond.

           Whetherdismayedbythefalloftheirchief—orwhetheritwasthathisdeadbodyhadhinderedthemfromapproachingtheonlyplacewherethechasmcouldhavebeenclearedataleap—thestallionsabandonedthepursuit;andMauricehadtheprairietohimselfashesweptonafterhisfellowfugitive.

           Heovertookherbeyondtheconvergenceofthefencesontheshoreofthepond.Shehadobeyedhimineverything—exceptastotheclosingofthegap.Hefounditopen—thebarslyingscatteredovertheground.Hefoundherstillseatedinthesaddle,relievedfromallapprehensionforhissafety,andonlytremblingwithagratitudethatlongedtofindexpressioninspeech

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