but not before he saw the fateful shadows again moving, and this time in
their own direction. They were evidently intending to pursue them. But
once within the woods Courtland knew that his chances were equal.
He breathed more freely. Cato, now less agitated, had even regained
something of his former emotional combativeness which Courtland had
checked. Although far from confident of his henchman's prowess in an
emergency, the prospect of getting him safe into the quarters seemed
brighter.

It was necessary, also, to trust to his superior wood-craft and
knowledge of the locality, and Courtland still walking between him and
his pursuers and covering his retreat allowed him to lead the way. It
lay over ground that was beginning to slope gently; the underbrush
was presently exchanged for springy moss, the character of the trees
changed, the black trunks of cypresses made the gloom thicker. Trailing
vines and parasites brushed their faces, a current of damp air seemed to
flow just above the soil in which their lower limbs moved sluggishly as
through stagnant water. As yet there was no indication of pursuit. But
Courtland felt that it was not abandoned. Indeed, he had barely time
to check an exclamation from the negro, before the dull gallop of
horse-hoofs in the open ahead of them was plain to them both. It was a
second party of their pursuers, mounted, who had evidently been sent
to prevent their final egress from the woods, while those they had just
evaded were no doubt slowly and silently following them on foot. They
were to be caught between two fires!

"What is there to the left of us?" whispered Courtland quickly.

"De swamp."