jewel of my soul. I wondered why, and what it might be. In a
moment the big hole of my hat came into conjunction with my right
eye. On my word, it was the stake! How it came there I have never
known, but, for some reason, I held to it. I looked neither to
right nor left, but sat erect, one hand on the hilt of my sabre,
the other in the mane of my horse, knowing full well I was the most
hideous-looking creature in the world. If I had come to the gate
of heaven I believe St. Peter would have dropped his keys. The
straw worked up, and a great wad of it hung under my chin like a
bushy beard. I would have given anything for a sight of myself,
and laughed to think of it, although facing a deadly peril, as I
knew. But I was young and had no fear in me those days. Would
that a man could have his youth to his death-bed! It was a leap in
the dark, but I was ready to take my chances.

Evidently I was nearing a village. Groups of men were in the shady
thoroughfare; children thronged the dooryards. There was every
sign of a holiday. As we neared them I caught my sabre under my
knee, and drew my hands into the long sleeves and waved them
wildly, whooping like an Indian. They ran back to the fences with
a start of fear. As I passed them they cheered loudly, waving
their hats and roaring with laughter. An old horse, standing
before an inn, broke his halter and crashed over a fence. A scared
dog ran for his life in front of me, yelping as he leaped over a
stone wall. Geese and turkeys flew in the air as I neared them.
The people had seemed to take me for some village youth on a
masquerade. We flashed into the open country before the sound of
cheering had died away. On we went over a long strip of hard soil,
between fields, and off in the shade of a thick forest. My horse
began to tire. I tried to calm him by gentle words, but I could