Martin suddenly gave both horses the spur in the flanks with a
backward fling of his heels, and at the same time struck each man a
heavy blow on his lowered head. The horses sprang aside, one rider
falling in the roadway, the other stumbling with his animal into the
ditch by the roadside. The next instant Martin had whipped round his own
horse, and was galloping back along the road.
It had been the work of a few seconds, and a few seconds more elapsed
before the cavalcade came to a standstill.
Then a voice roared orders, half a dozen shots sang about the fugitive,
and there were galloping horses quickly in pursuit.
Expecting the shots, Martin had flung himself low on the horse's neck.
The animal, frightened by the swinging stirrups and driven by the spur,
plunged madly along the road. So long as the road was straight, Martin
let the horse go, but at the first bend, when there was no chance of his
pursuers seeing him, he checked the animal a little, slipped from his
back, and with a blow sent him careering riderless along the road.
"He'll make a fine chase for them, and should find his way back to
Witley," said Martin as he crouched down in a ditch which divided the
road from a wood.
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