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74 Arab pursuers, but overtook and passed his own escort one by one, until be reached Sidi Hassan himself. He then attempted to pull up, but the clasp-knife had fired the charger's blood in an unusual degree. With a wicked snort and fling that lifted Flaggan high out of the saddle, it rushed madly on, left the pirate-captain far behind, and at length dashed through the Bab-Azoun gate of Algiers, despite the frantic efforts of the guard to check or turn it. Right onward it sped through the street Bab-Azoun, scattering Turks, Moors, Jews, negroes, and all the rest of them like chaff; passed the Dey's palace, straight along the street Babel-Oued; out at the water-gate, with similar contempt of the guards; down into the hollow caused by the brook beyond; up the slope on the other side, half-way towards the summit, on the opposite side of Frais Vallon, and was not finally pulled up until it had almost run down the British consul, who chanced to be riding leisurely homeward at the time.

"You seem to have had a pretty sharp run, my man," said the consul, laughing, as the Irishman thankfully jumped off, and grasped the bridle of the now thoroughly winded horse.

"Faix an' I have, yer honour; an' if I haven't run down an' kilt half the population o' that town, wotever's its name, no thanks to this self-opiniated