back the window.

"Who is there?" he asked coolly. ("Stand up Anthony.")

"It is I, Mr. Buxton, but this insolent dog----"

"Stand _back_, madam, I say," cried the voice of the guard. Then from the
garden behind came running footsteps and voices; and a red light shone
through the windows behind.

"Now," whispered the voice over Anthony's head sharply.

There came a loud shout from the guard, "Help there, help!"

Anthony put his hands on to the sill and lifted himself easily. The groom
had slipped from his horse while Mary held the bridle, and was advancing
at the guard, and there was something in his hand. The sentry, who was
standing immediately under the window, now dropped his pike point
forward; and as a furious rattling began at the doors on the garden side,
Anthony dropped, and came down astride of the man's neck, who crashed to
the ground. Then the groom was on him too.

"Leave him to me, sir. Mount."

The groom's hands were busy with something about the struggling man's
neck: the shouts choked and ceased.

"You will strangle the man," said Anthony sharply.

"Nonsense," said Mary; "mount, mount. They are coming."

Anthony ran to the horse, that was beginning to scurry and plunge; threw
himself across the saddle and caught the reins.

"Up?" said Mary.

"Up"; and he slung his right leg over the flank and sat up, as Mary
released the bridle, and dashed off, scattering gravel.

From the direction of the church came cries and the quick rattle of a
galloping horse. Anthony dashed his shoeless heels into the horse's sides
and leaned forward, and in a moment more was flying down the lane after
Mary. From in front came a shout of warning, with one or two screams, and
then Anthony turned the corner, checking his horse slightly at the angle,
saw a torch somewhere to his right, a group of scared faces, a groom and
woman clinging to him on a plunging horse, and the white road; and then
found himself with loose reins, and flying stirrups, thundering down the
village street, with Mary on her horse not two lengths in front. The roar
of the hoofs behind, and of the little shouting crowd, with the screaming
woman on the horse, died behind him as the wind began to boom in his
ears. Mary was looking round now, and slightly checking her horse as they
neared the bottom of the long village street. In half a dozen strides
Anthony came up on her right. Then the pool gleamed before them just
beyond the fork of the road.