[Illustration: The two pistols rang out together.] CHAPTER XI. I RIDE DOWN INTO TEMPLE: AND AM WELL TREATED THERE. And now I did indeed abandon myself to despair. Few would have given a groat for my life, with that crew at my heels; and I least of all, now that my dear comrade was lost. The wound in my shoulder was bleeding sore—I could feel the warm stream welling—yet not so sore as my heart. And I pressed my knees into the saddle flap, and wondered what the end would be. The sorrel mare was galloping, free and strong, her delicate ears laid back, and the network of veins under her soft skin working with the heave and fall of her withers: yet—by the mud and sweat about her—I knew she must have travelled far before I mounted. I heard a shot or two fired, far up the road: tho’ their bullets must have fallen short: at least, I heard none whiz past. But the rebels’ shouting was clear enough, and the thud of their gallop behind. I think that, for a mile or two, I must have ridden in a sort of swoon. ’Tis certain, not an inch of the road comes back to me: nor did I once turn my head to look back, but sat with my eyes fastened stupidly on the mare’s neck. And by-and-bye, as we galloped, the smart of my wound, the heartache, hurry, pounding of hoofs—all dropp’d to an enchanting lull. I rode, and that was all. For, swoon or no, I was lifted off earth, as it seemed, and on easy wings to an incredible height, where were no longer hedges, nor road, nor country round; but a great stillness, and only the mare and I running languidly through it. “Ride!” Now, at first, I thought ’twas someone speaking this in my ear, and turn’d my head. But ’twas really the last word I had heard from Delia, now after half an hour repeated in my brain. And as I grew aware of this, the dullness fell off me, and all became very distinct. And the muscles about my wound had stiffen’d—which was vilely painful: and the country, I saw, was a brown, barren moor, dotted with peat-ricks: and I cursed it. This did me good: for it woke the fighting-man in me, and I set my teeth. Now for the first time looking back, I saw, with a great gulp of joy, I had gained on the troopers. A long dip of the road lay between me and the foremost, now topping the crest. The sun had broke through at last, and sparkled on his cap and gorget. I whistled to Molly (I could not pat her), and spoke to her softly: the sweet thing prick’d up her ears, laid them back again, and mended her pace. Her stride was beautiful to feel. I had yet no clear idea how to escape. In front the moors rose gradually, swelling to the horizon line, and there broken into steep, jagged heights. The road under me was sound white granite and stretch’d away till lost among these fastnesses—in all of it no sign of man’s habitation. Be sure I look’d along it, and to right and left, dreading to spy more troopers. But for mile on mile, all was desolate.