nostrils distended, and neck thrust out, would now lay back one ear
and now another, as if to listen to the progress of the pursuers.

At last our hero reached the road, which lay along a level country
skirted on one side by pine groves, and upon the other by the
recently-harvested fields. Turning in his saddle he perceived that
while he had distanced two of his pursuers, the third, the fellow
with the blunder-buss, was gaining slightly upon him. He noticed also
that the officer was engaged as the horse galloped along in putting
another charge into his weapon. About fifteen minutes more of fierce
riding followed; and although Roland's horse showed no signs of
exhaustion, the pursuing beast, which was taller in limb and more
lithe, was remorselessly, though slowly, lessening the distance. The
road now began to sink into a valley, and thick forest grew upon
either side. Roland's pursuer was not more than fifteen paces behind,
when the fugitive heard a scuffing sound. He but too well divined
what it was; and the next moment his horse fell to the road, struck
by the slugs from the pursuer's carbine.

'It is as well,' muttered our hero, as he sprang away from the
gasping beast. The next moment he had disappeared in the dense, dark
wood. Ah! how sheltering, how kindly, seemed that sombre sanctuary,
with its dark grey tufts beneath his feet, and the thick, dusk-green
branches of the fir and pine! The gloomy background seemed to invite
him further into the heart of its shade and _silence_. No bird
whistled through the glaucous green of this silent, majestic wood;
nor was there any treacherous bramble to crackle beneath his feet.
For upon this chill, grey carpet no flood of sunshine ever came to
coax tiny sprays out of the ground; and the layers of fine needles,
or tufts of dank, sunless moss were soft and noiseless as down under