Barclay of the Guides. Herbert Strang

would soon fly through the place.

      "Quick!" cried Ahmed to the gate-keeper, "or you are a dead man."

      The man cringed, and drew the bolts. Ahmed, his knife in one hand, leant forward and with the other pulled open the massive structure, which creaked on its hinges. Seizing the opportunity, the man slipped aside and ran up the street shouting for assistance. Ahmed walked his horse quietly through the gateway. He heard cries behind him; it would take a minute or two for horsemen to saddle up, mount, and follow, and there were few horses within fifty miles that could match his Ruksh in speed—the arab he had trained to come at his call, and to kneel down at a word. Some one might shoot at him from the wall, but he must take his chance of that; he disdained to run while he was yet in sight. He turned his horse towards a hill a quarter of a mile away, and did not set him to a trot until he had rounded the shoulder and the village was hid from him. Then he rode on for half-a-mile until he gained a spot whence the walls again came into view. Turning his head, he saw a dozen horsemen pouring through the gate. It was time to be off. With a touch upon his flank and a word in his ear the horse broke into a gallop. Even with a heavier burden than his master the arab could outpace any horse in the village, and under Ahmed's light weight he would, barring accidents, easily distance the pursuers.

      Ahmed had purposely chosen a track that wound along at the base of the hills, for the undulations of the country would baffle the pursuers, who could not press on at their utmost speed for fear of a fall. Every now and then he had to pull in his horse to avoid a stumble, and his care enabled the enemy for a mile or two to keep him in sight. They could not circumvent him, for he knew every foot of the hills, and could turn off in any direction at need, with perfect confidence in his ability to elude them. They were bound to follow in his tracks. So for some time the chase continued, the distance between pursuers and pursued scarcely varying. At length Ahmed, feeling that the hills had served their turn in tiring the horses of Dilasah and his troop, swept down into the plain and gave Ruksh his head. The gallant animal flew on at a bounding pace. In half-an-hour the pursuers were hopelessly distanced. Coming to a point from which he could see a long stretch of level ground behind him, Ahmed pulled up, turned in his saddle, and narrowly scanned the course of his flight. There in the far distance were his pursuers, but riding the other way. They had given up the chase.