Only now with good hope I saw a hill rising not half a mile in front, and somewhat to the right of our course: and thought I “if we can gain the hollow to the left of it, and put the hill between us, they must ride over it or round—in either case losing much time.” So, pointing this out to Delia, who rode on my left (to leave my pistol arm free and at the same time be screen’d by me from shot of the dragoons) I drove my spurs deep and called to Molly to make her best pace. The enemy divin’d our purpose: and in a minute ’twas a desperate race for the entrance to the hollow. But our horses were the faster, and we the lighter riders; so that we won, with thirty yards to spare, from the foremost:—not without damage, however; for finding himself baulked, he sent a bullet at us which cut neatly through my off rein, so that my bridle was henceforward useless and I could guide Molly with knee and voice alone. Delia’s bay had shied at the sound of it, and likely enough saved my mistress’ life by this; for the bullet must have pass’d within a foot before her. Down the hollow we raced with three dragoons at our heels, the rest going round the hill. But they did little good by so doing, for after the hollow came a broad, dismal sheet of water (by name Dozmare Pool, I have since heard) about a mile round and bank’d with black peat. Galloping along the left shore of this, we cut them off by near half a mile. But the three behind followed doggedly, though dropping back with every stride. Beyond the pool came a green valley; and a stream flowing down it, which we jump’d easily. Glancing at Delia as she landed on the further side, I noted that her cheeks were glowing, and her eyes brimful of mirth. “Say, Jack,” she cried; “is not this better than love of women?” “In Heaven’s name,” I called out, “take care!” But ’twas too late. The green valley here melted into a treacherous bog, in the which her bay was already plunging over his fetlocks, and every moment sinking deeper. “Throw me the rein!” I shouted, and catching the bridle close by the bit, lean’d over and tried to drag the horse forward. By this, Molly also was over hoofs in liquid mud. For a minute and more we heav’d and splashed: and all the while the dragoons, seeing our fix, were shouting and drawing nearer and nearer. But just as a brace of bullets splashed into the slough at our feet, we stagger’d to the harder slope, and were gaining on them again. So for twenty minutes along the spurs of the hills, we held on, the enemy falling back and hidden, every now and again, in the hollows—but always following: at the end of which time, Delia call’d from just behind me— “Jack—here’s a to-do: the bay is going lame!” There was no doubt of it. I suppose he must have wrung his off hind leg in fighting through the quag. Any way, ten minutes more would see the end of his gallop. But at this moment we had won to the top of a stiff ascent: and now, looking down at our feet, I had the joyfullest surprise.