The pursuers began to curse.
Martin heard, and his face lighted up.

"Courage, Gerard! courage, brave lad! they are straggling." It was so.

Dierich was now headed by one of his men, and another dropped into the rear altogether.
They came to a rising ground, not sharp, but long; and here youth, and grit, and sober living told more than ever.
Ere he reached the top, Dierich's forty years weighed him down like forty bullets.

"Our cake is dough," he gasped.

"Take him dead, if you can't alive;" and he left running, and followed at a foot's pace.