Then my senses came back, my realization of the situation.

Let Le Gaire lie where he was; others would take care of him soon enough.

I must get away; I could use his horse, pretend to be him, if necessary, and before daylight be safely across the river.

I sought along the ground until I found the dropped revolver, thrust it into my belt, and ran over to where the horse was tied.
I had loosened the rein, my hand on the pommel, when the thought came that I must tell her first before I rode away.

Even though the delay was a risk to us both, yet she must understand the truth, be informed of Le Gaire's condition, and why I had attacked him.