It was deftly done, and served to gain
him a few yards on his pursuers.
"To the right and left to cut him off!" cried Rosmore. "We have him. The
chase is over before it has well begun."
Well might he say so, for the fugitive was galloping straight towards a
stiff fence that few horses would face and few horsemen would hazard
their necks over.
He turned again and laughed, but rode straight on. The next moment, with
inches to spare, the gallant animal had cleared the fence and dropped
into the wood beyond.
A cry of wonder came from the men who were following him, a curse from
Lord Rosmore, for the rider was the highwayman Galloping Hermit, and
wore the brown mask.
CHAPTER IX
"THE JOLLY FARMERS"
For a few moments the very daring of the leap paralysed the hunters. The
man had surely gone to his death, preferring an end of this sort to the
one that most surely awaited him if he were captured. They had looked to
see horse and rider crash downwards to destruction, or perchance fall
backwards to be crushed and maimed past all healing; but when neither of
these things happened a cry of astonishment, not unmingled with
admiration, burst from a dozen throats.
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