"Seven to five!" repeated the other, and the two figures
flitted away in different directions. Their concluding words
had evidently been some form of sign and countersign. The
instant that their footsteps had died away in the distance,
Jefferson Hope sprang to his feet, and helping his companions
through the gap, led the way across the fields at the top of
his speed, supporting and half-carrying the girl when her
strength appeared to fail her.

"Hurry on! hurry on!" he gasped from time to time. "We are
through the line of sentinels. Everything depends on speed.
Hurry on!"

Once on the high road they made rapid progress. Only once
did they meet anyone, and then they managed to slip into a
field, and so avoid recognition. Before reaching the town
the hunter branched away into a rugged and narrow footpath
which led to the mountains. Two dark jagged peaks loomed
above them through the darkness, and the defile which led
between them was the Eagle Canon in which the horses were
awaiting them. With unerring instinct Jefferson Hope picked
his way among the great boulders and along the bed of a
dried-up watercourse, until he came to the retired corner,
screened with rocks, where the faithful animals had been
picketed. The girl was placed upon the mule, and old Ferrier
upon one of the horses, with his money-bag, while Jefferson
Hope led the other along the precipitous and dangerous path.

It was a bewildering route for anyone who was not accustomed