up their arms and they fled as incontinently as the rest.
We made a show of pursuit, but it was no more than a show, and then all hands turned to the work of getting the horses harnessed and saddled. Meanwhile the mist was rising fast, and promised to form a welcome veil to our flight.
As a precaution I told one of our men to ride some distance along the lane to see that the road was clear, although I had no doubt that the troopers had been effectively disposed of; and I went to fetch the Princess and Mademoiselle Broumoff. All was ready and we were in good heart, when the man I had sent out came scampering back with news that filled me with sudden consternation.
He had seen a large body of horse soldiers at the end of the lane on the high road, and with them were several of the men we had just beaten off.
I heard the news with genuine anguish of soul. We were hemmed in. The absence of any outlet except by the lane made escape absolutely hopeless, and for a moment I was borne down with despair.
"We can only make a forlorn hope of it," said Zoiloff. "Charge them and try to make off in the confusion."
I bit my lip and racked my brains in the effort to find some other than this useless, desperate scheme, and then suddenly a light beamed through the darkness.
"Markov, can you find your way across the fields at the back here to the road—on horseback I mean?"
"Yes, certainly, your Honour, but with the cart"
"Zoiloff, good friend, we must part now. There is only one way. You and Markov must ride with the Princess on horseback, escaping by the back across the
