“Oh, a man came in, and then other people. The prince could not make a scene before them, so I calmly walked out. I suppose he had no idea you and I would run away.” “Countess, I know you must think me very much of a coward for my desertion of you. I--well, I really can’t explain.” “Please don’t apologize. You have shown you were no coward. Besides, all has turned out for the best. In an hour we’ll be at the station--two hours after that in St. Petersburg.” “I wish we had a better horse,” said Drexel ruefully. “This is a stiff old beast.” “I dare say I didn’t bribe the stableman heavily enough. But we shall make our train.” They glided on--now over flat, bright spaces, where the road seemed as broad as eye-reach--now through shadowy forest stretches, where on either side they could almost touch the pendant boughs of the snowy evergreens. The countess talked eagerly of their plans for the release of Borodin; Drexel answered with reserve. She spoke warmly of what it meant to her that she had won him to the cause; on this subject, too, he was perforce reticent. Presently, after they had been riding for over half an hour, Drexel thought he detected, penetrating the countess’s unbroken talk, a faint, soft thudding. “Do you hear that?” he asked, looking back. “What?” “It sounds like horses’ feet.” “I hear nothing; it must be imagination. See, the road is empty.” And so it was, to where it emerged from a forest but a quarter of a mile behind. The countess talked rapidly on--talk that was as wax to fill his ears against that warning sound. But soon the thudding had come so near that it could no longer be concealed by the countess’s conversation. Drexel looked back again. Forth from the forest into the broad moonlight shot four dark bodies, and sped swiftly toward them over the snow. “Look, countess!” he cried. “We are pursued!” “Yes--horsemen!” she breathed. “The prince has sent for us.” Drexel leaned forward and began to beat the horse’s flanks with the ends of the lines; the whip the countess had dropped out unnoticed when they had climbed into the sleigh. But belabouring the beast was to little purpose. The countess’s orders had been well observed. The horse was one of those dogged roadsters that can strike a fair gait at daybreak and hold to it till nightfall, but that cannot be pressed much beyond this speed, no matter how strong the arm that lays on the whip. The animal quivered at the blows, but kept his even pace. “They’re gaining on us fast!” Drexel exclaimed. “We can never outrun them with this beast of wood!” The countess had to play her part. “What shall we do?” she asked. Her voice came out with a difficulty that surprised her. “What can we do in this great empty prairie?” he returned grimly. “In fifteen or twenty minutes they’ll be upon us.” “And then?” “We’ll see.”