I felt the holsters, but, to my
horror, there were no pistols. There was a field-glass in one
and the other was stuffed with papers. My sword had been left
behind with Violette.
Had I only my own weapons and my own little mare I could have
played with these rascals. But I was not entirely unarmed. The
Emperor's own sword hung to the saddle. It was curved and short,
the hilt all crusted with gold--a thing more fitted to glitter at
a review than to serve a soldier in his deadly need. I drew it,
such as it was, and I waited my chance. Every instant the clink
and clatter of the hoofs grew nearer. I heard the panting of the
horse, and the fellow shouted some threat at me. There was a
turn in the lane, and as I rounded it I drew up my white Arab on
his haunches. As we spun round I met the Prussian Hussar face to
face. He was going too fast to stop, and his only chance was to
ride me down. Had he done so he might have met his own death,
but he would have injured me or my horse past all hope of escape.
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