A few strokes took her over the water; Ian stooped and seized her under the arms, drew her out of the water, lifted her on to the one horse, vaulted himself on to the other and they fled like the wind. Shot after shot then rang out and the bullets whistled only too alarmingly near them, but they were soon out of reach. “Mount and pursue,” shouted Father Austin, as he stumbled over the body of the dead man, “and take this clumsy loon and bury him.” “The horses are tired, we need fresh steeds for that,” said one of the guard. “Gramercy, take them from the Hall,” he roared. But no one would find the keys of the stable and Mistress Mowbray, coming up a moment later, said in acid tones, “Take your own horses, Sir Priest, warrant or no warrant you cannot steal, and if you touch my horses I will have you hanged as a common horse-thief.” She looked at him triumphantly, the exercise of power delighted her and she even felt a glow of reflected glory from Aline’s achievement. “We know how to manage these interlopers,” she thought; “I am mistress of this situation. Aline, you have done very well.” Father Austin looked cowed, and the sullen people stood in the way and blocked the road. One managed to secure a stirrup, another broke a girth, while a third removed a halter altogether. “You shall suffer for this,” said the priests, when they at length reached the horses; but the attitude of the crowd was so menacing that they became afraid for their very lives and finally had to fall back upon entreaty before they were allowed to go away at all. The result was that the fugitives had two full hours start on good horses, before Father Austin could get his little troop under way. “Had God sent a deliverer from the skies?” mused Mistress Mowbray, as she sat and pondered the strange events of the day. CHAPTER XXIV A RIDE IN VAIN As Aline and Ian rode over the rough ground they kept turning back; but nothing was to be seen. They wondered what had delayed the pursuit, but felt sure it would come. The snow had more or less melted and the day was clear, so that they could see far behind them. When, therefore, they reached a place where they could clearly see two miles and no one following, they slackened pace, so as to give their horses every chance. Ian’s plan was to swim or ford the swollen river at the Weal, the long pool-like stretch, of the Tees,--and then take the track to Garrigill. His present anxiety was to keep Aline warm. He had brought away two big heavy riding cloaks from Andrew, saying that he needed to be warm sleeping on the hills. One of these he had put round Aline, but she was at first very cold. The exercise, however, warmed her a little and they did not dare to stop until they had put the river between them and their pursuers. It was fortunate for them that there was no wind and that the day, although cold, was bright and sunny. The hills looked hard and colourless, but the sunshine seemed to conquer the austerity.