MY LADY OF THE SOUTH
heard more than I had confessed; that I knew of the projected movement of the Gray army, and that it was now my purpose to warn the Blue. That was why she had called me "spy"; that was why she was now riding straight on at top speed, desperately, through the night, bearing a message of warning to Johnston. With a single bound I was back in the saddle, bent forward over the roan's neck, and driving in the spur. I must overtake her, and I could do it. I was astride of far the better horse, stronger, longer limbed, and I must ride as recklessly as she. I was conscious of little except the necessity of the moment, pushing into the black void as though astride a thunderbolt, the night air whistling past my face, my legs gripping the straining body of the roan, my spur constantly urging him to greater effort. And he responded nobly. Slowly, steadily, remorselessly I began drawing in on the chase; I could see nothing, but my ears gave evidence. That she also realized what was occurring behind became sufficiently clear a moment later; out of that shrouding blackness in my front winked two red spits of fire, and I heard a bullet whistle shrilly as it zipped past my head. But I thundered on regardless, merely extending my body along the roan's neck; there was small danger from such shots and I comprehended anew the desperation of the girl, the determination with which she sought to thwart me. A stern chase is proverbially a long one, and I must have b»en still fully a hundred feet in her rear, speeding like a whirlwind, my horse running with belly low, and neck extended, the foam from his nostrils blowing back in my face, when
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