A false step, a slip might lame me, and so stop me altogether.

Yet on every moment hung the fate of _her_ father! It was a wild career I made that morning--down hollows, over rocks, through swamps, and up banks.

I soon lost all sight of the road, and knew I should not see it again till I came above the boulder behind which the assassin probably lurked.

Once I fancied I heard the clatter of the hoofs very near; and once, on the hill before me, I seemed to catch the gleam of a gun-barrel among the rocks.
A minute more brought me in view of the boulder and the road below.
Stretched on the former, with his gun levelled, lay Corkill, waiting the moment when his victim should reach the corner.

On the road, still toiling up the hill, came the gig, and to my horror and dismay, not only his honour in it, but Miss Kit herself.
Even in that moment of terror I could not help noticing how beautiful she looked, her face intent on the horse she was driving as she sat, inclined a little forward, gently coaxing him up the hill.