Всадник без головы / The Headless Horseman

A herd of wild mares going at reckless speed across the prairie; one of their own kind, with a lady upon its back, following about four hundred yards behind; at a like distance after the lady, a steed of red bay colour, bestridden by the mustanger, and apparently intent upon overtaking her; still further to the rear a string of mounted men.

In twenty minutes the herd gained distance upon the spotted mustang; the mustang upon the blood bay; and the blood bay – ah! his competitors were no longer in sight.

For another mile the chase continued, without much change.

“What if I lose sight of her? In truth, it begins to look queer! It would be an awkward situation for the young lady. Worse than that – there’s danger in it – real danger. If I should lose sight of her, she’d be in trouble to a certainty!”

Thus muttering, Maurice rode on: his eyes now fixed upon the form still flitting away before him; at intervals interrogating, with uneasy glances, the space that separated him from it.

At this crisis the drove disappeared from the sight both of the blood-bay and his master; and most probably at the same time from that of the spotted mustang and its rider.

The effect produced upon the runaway[22 - runaway – лошадь, которая понесла] appeared to proceed from some magical influence. As if their disappearance was a signal for discontinuing the chase, it suddenly slackened pace; and the instant after came to a standstill!

“Miss Poindexter!” Maurice said, as he spurred his steed within speaking distance: “I am glad that you have recovered command of that wild creature.

“About what, sir?” was the question that startled the mustanger.

“Your safety – of course,” he replied, somewhat stammeringly.

“Oh, thank you, Mr Gerald; but I was not aware of having been in any danger. Was I really so?”

“Any danger!” echoed the Irishman, with increased astonishment. “On the back of a runaway mustang – in the middle of a pathless prairie!”

“And what of that? The thing couldn’t throw me.

“I know it, madame; but suppose you had fallen in with—”

“Indians!” interrupted the lady, without waiting for the mustanger to finish his hypothetical speech. “And if I had, what would it have mattered?”

“No; not Indians exactly – at least, it was not of them I was thinking.