"But," said Henry, "it will not be possible for Caesar to remain long
undiscovered. Had we not better put our horses to the gallop, and by the
time they can reflect on the cause of our flight, we can reach the
corner of the woods?"
"Ah! you little know them, Captain Wharton," returned the peddler.
"There is a sergeant at this moment looking after us, as if he thought
all was not right; the keen-eyed fellow watches me like a tiger lying in
wait for his leap. When I stood on the horseblock, he half suspected
that something was wrong. Nay, check your beast--we must let the animals
walk a little, for he is laying his hand on the pommel of his saddle. If
he mounts, we are gone. The foot-soldiers could reach us with
their muskets."
"What does he now?" asked Henry, reining his horse to a walk, but at the
same time pressing his heels into the animal's sides, to be in readiness
for a spring.
"He turns from his charger, and looks the other way, now trot on
gently--not so fast--not so fast. Observe the sentinel in the field, a
little ahead of us--he eyes us keenly."
"Never mind the footman," said Henry, impatiently, "he can do nothing
but shoot us--whereas these dragoons may make me a captive again.
Surely, Harvey, there are horse moving down the road behind us.
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