Without waiting to learn the result of his warning, he sprang round, heedless now of what noise he made, and, swinging by a branch to his right, dropped to the ground just behind the two other men, who had let go of the rope in their alarm and were transfixed with terror and amazement, staring into the black depths of the tree above them. One of them faced round as he heard the thud of Harry’s descent. Without pausing to draw his sword Harry hurled himself at the man, hit out at him with all his strength, and felled him to the ground. The other, the first moment of paralysis past, whipped out a pistol and snapped it before Harry had time to recover himself. It missed fire; Harry closed with the man. There was a brief, sharp struggle; in the midst came Sherebiah’s voice: "Where bist, sir, where bist?" "Here; by the tree; get a grip of this knave!" At the sound of Sherebiah’s voice Harry felt his opponent’s efforts relax; the man tried to free himself; but Sherebiah had ridden his horse up to the tree, and bending low from the saddle to distinguish between the combatants, he brought the butt of his pistol down on the man’s head. He fell without a groan. Now Fanshawe dashed up. His horse had slipped at the ditch, thus giving Sherebiah a slight start. "Two men on the other side of the road," panted Harry. "Follow me!" Springing across the ditch he gained the other side of the road, and vaulted the gate. Fanshawe and Sherebiah had to dismount to follow him, for the road was too narrow to allow of their leaping the gate. Aglionby and his companion had not waited; discovering that their plan had failed, they had hurried away towards their horses. But they had not gone far. Harry heard a noise ahead; there was a chance of overtaking them before they gained their saddles. He dashed on over the stubble, and soon descried a broad figure lumbering along; from its stertorous breathing he guessed it to be Aglionby, an opinion confirmed immediately by the mingled oaths and entreaties which the captain sent after Polignac, who being lighter of foot had far outstripped his fellow-conspirator. Hearing Harry’s step just behind him, Aglionby at length halted, swung round, and fired his pistol. But hard running and breathlessness flurried him and spoilt his aim; the ball whistled harmlessly past. So impetuous had been Harry in pursuit that he had had no time to draw his sword. He struck out at Aglionby, who only half warded the blow, staggering backward and endeavouring to parry this lively attack. Seeing his opportunity, Harry closed and tripped the big man up with a favourite fall taught him by Sherebiah; and Fanshawe coming up with Sherebiah at this moment, Aglionby was secured in a trice. "That cursed coward!" he spluttered, as they led him back to the road. "Odsnigs! I’ll be even with him for this."