With a terrible cry the officer fell back, and Harry, throwing down the sword, leaped through the open window into the garden and dashed into the shrubberies, as half a dozen balls from the pistols of the astonished troopers whizzed about his head.
For a few minutes he ran at the top of his speed, as he heard shouts and pistol shots behind him.

But he knew that in the darkness strangers would have no chance whatever of overtaking him, and he slackened his pace into a trot.

As he ran he took himself to task for not having acted up to his resolution.

But the reflection that his father would not disapprove of his having cut down the man who had struck him consoled him, and he kept on his way to the farm where he had left his horse.

In other respects, he felt a wild delight at what had happened.