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 I told Spernow to post the men in the covert, and Zoiloff and I lay down in some bushes to wait for the pursuers.

It was an anxious moment, and we lay close together, whispering in hurried conference. We had not long to wait.

"I hear them," whispered Zoiloff, gripping my arm. His ears were quicker than mine, but a moment later I, too, caught the clatter of horses' feet and then the clash of accoutrements.

"Troops," I whispered; and we both peered between the bushes, straining our ears, through the grey twilight of the dawn.

As they reached the foot of the rise near the top of which we were concealed the party slackened speed, first to a trot and then to a walk, to ease the horses.

"I hope to Heaven none of our horses neigh," whispered Zoiloff earnestly.

I made no reply. I was too anxious for speech, for such a chance might ruin everything. I almost held my breath as the first of the horsemen came into view, and then my companion gripped my arm again in a spasm of irresistible excitement.

"Kolfort, by the luck of hell!" he breathed, and sure enough, in the second line of three, I recognised the grim, stern face of that implacable man.

So excited was I that I almost forgot to count the men with him, and a thousand thoughts, wild and incoherent, rushed through my mind as the band of horsemen came up at a quick walking pace, got abreast, then passed on up the rise, and dipped out of sight as they broke again into a gallop, the footfalls of the horses dying away very quickly over the summit of the hill.