Suddenly the horse was seized with the same unseen terror that had caused it to bolt on the highway. It reared almost on its haunches, and only by keeping a tight grip on its mane with my sound arm was I able to retain my seat. Then, with its freshly-found wind, the startled animal bounded forward. "'Tis time to cry halt," I exclaimed to myself, and, putting all the strength of my unwounded limb into the pull, I strove to rein in the animal, as I saw that what I took to be a gentle slope actually terminated in a cliff, though considerably lower than the adjacent portions of the coast. My efforts, as before, were useless, and only tended to increase the horse's pace and fury. Several times I tried to turn its head, but in spite of this the animal kept straight for the sea. Not a moment was to be lost. I determined to shoot the brute and risk a headlong fall on the soft turf. Forgetting my wound for the moment, I took the reins in my left hand. Then, drawing my remaining pistol from its holster, I snapped it at the horse's forehead but, to my dismay, there was no report. The weapon had missed fire. At that moment I realised that there were persons riding to my aid. At least a score of horsemen were galloping furiously down the spur on my right, with the evident intention of intercepting my runaway steed and diverting its flight. Some of them had carbines, and made ready to fire, though I had misgivings as to their marksmanship. But the efforts of the horsemen were in vain; my horse thundered past the leader at more than twenty paces, and, defying pursuit, continued its mad flight. Throwing away the useless pistol, I drew my sword, determined to slay the animal before it carried me to destruction; but before I could shorten the blade for a stroke we had gained the edge of the cliff. The horse gave a neigh, whether of triumph or of terror I knew not, and with undiminished speed shot into space. In a few brief seconds I must have turned completely round; I saw the red sheer face of the cliff appear to shoot upwards, the air whistled past my head, and with a heavy splash my horse and I struck the surface of the water simultaneously. Then everything became a blank. CHAPTER X ON BOARD THE "EMMA FARLEIGH" I AWOKE to consciousness with the sensation of being tossed upon the waves, though, fortunately, not in them. I was lying upon the wet deck of a small fishing craft; my head was supported by a coil of rope, while my coat and doublet had been removed and a bandage placed around my shoulder. My left arm was in a sling. A man was kneeling by my side to prevent my being slung bodily to lee'ard with the heel of the craft, for a steady breeze hummed through the rigging, making the vessel lie over to it as she tore on her course, while ever and again a sting of salt spray came dashing over the low bulwark. It was just growing light, a grey misty morning, while in the east a rosy red betokened the dawning of a stormy day.