ussians howled behind me. I
galloped to the brink, but the horse refused the plunge. I spurred him,
but the bank was high and the stream deep.

He shrank back trembling and snorting. The yells of triumph were louder
every instant. I turned and rode for my life down the river bank.
It formed a loop at this part, and I must get across somehow, for my
retreat was blocked. Suddenly a thrill of hope ran through me, for I saw
a house on my side of the stream and another on the farther bank. Where
there are two such houses it usually means that there is a ford between
them. A sloping path led to the brink and I urged my horse down it. On
he went, the water up to the saddle, the foam flying right and left.
He blundered once and I thought we were lost, but he recovered and an
instant later was clattering up the farther slope. As we came out I
heard the splash behind me as the first Prussian took the water. There
was just the breadth of the Sambre between us.

I rode with my head sunk between my shoulders in Napoleon's fashion, and
I did not dare to look back for fear they should see my moustache. I had
turned up the collar of the grey coat so as partly to hide it. Even
now if they found out their mistake they might turn and overtake the
carriage. But when once we were on the road I could tell by the drumming
of their hoofs how far distant they were, and it seemed to me that the
sound grew perceptibly louder, as if they were slowly gaining upon me.
We were riding now up the stony and rutted lane which led from the ford.
I peeped back very cautiously from under my arm and I perceived that my
danger came from a single rider, who was far ahead of his comrades.

He was a Hussar, a very tiny fellow, upon a big black horse, and it was
his light weight which had brought him into the foremost place. It is
a place of honour; but it is also a place of danger, as he was soon to
learn. I felt the holsters, but, to my horror, there were no pistols.
There was a field-glass in one and the other was stuffed with papers. My
sword had been left behind with Violette.

Had I only my own weapons and my own little mare I could have played
with these rascals. But I was not entirely unarmed. The Emperor's own
sword hung to the saddle. It was curved and short, the hilt all crusted
with gold--a thing more fitted to glitter at a review than to serve a
soldier in his deadly need. I drew it, such as it was, and I waited my
chance. Every instant the clink