a great fool. When he turns his horse we will
fire on him," said Zmai.

Their eyes were upon Armitage; and in their intentness they failed to
note the increasing pace of Oscar's horse, which was spurting slowly
ahead. When they saw that he would first make the sweep which they
assumed to be the contemplated strategy of the charging party, they
leveled their arms at him, believing that he must soon check his horse.
But on he rode, bending forward a little, his rifle held across the
saddle in front of him.

"Take him first," cried Chauvenet. "Then be ready for Armitage!"

Oscar was now turning his horse, but toward them and across Armitage's
path, with the deliberate purpose of taking the first fire. Before him
rose the cedars that concealed the line of wall; and he saw the blue
barrels of the waiting rifles. With a great spurt of speed he cut in
ahead of Armitage swiftly and neatly; then on, without a break or a
pause--not heeding Armitage's cries--on and still on, till twenty, then
ten feet lay between him and the wall, at a place where the cedar
barrier was thinnest. Then, as his horse crouched and rose, three rifles
cracked as one. With a great crash the horse struck the wall and tumbled,
rearing and plunging, through the tough cedar boughs. An instant later,
near the same spot, Armitage, with better luck clearing the wall, was
borne on through the confused line. When he flung himself down and ran
back Claiborne had not yet appeared.

Oscar had crashed through at a point held by Durand, who was struck down
by the horse's forefeet. He lay howling with pain, with the hind quarters
of the prostrate beast across his legs. Armitage, running back toward the
wall, kicked the revolver from his hand and left him. Zmai had started to
run as Oscar gained the wall and Chauvenet's curses did not halt the
Servian when he found Oscar at his heels.

Chauvenet stood impassively by the wall, his revolver raised and covering
Armitage, who walked slowly and doggedly toward him. The pallor in
Armitage's face gave him an unearthly look; he appeared to be trying
to force himself to a pace of which his wavering limbs were incapable. At
the moment that Claiborne sprang upon the wall behind Chauvenet Armitage
swerved and stumbled, then swayed from side to side like a drunken man.
His left arm swung limp at his side, and his revolver remained undrawn in
his belt. His gray felt hat was twitched to one side of his head, adding
a grotesque to