just then the Outlaw slipped, one of his forefeet became entangled, and before Elsie had time to collect herself the horse and she were on the ground.
Blake had sprung to her in an instant. She was unhurt. But the horse floundered. When they got him on his feet it was found that he was lame.
CHAPTER XXXVI.
"THE WORLD MAY END TO-NIGHT!"
The black boy's horse was restive, and had never carried a lady. There was nothing for it but that Elsie should be placed on Abatos in front of Blake.
The girl's heart throbbed with a secret and guilty joy as he lifted her up and held her close to him, keeping her firm on the saddle. Abatos seemed almost to relish the burden, so springily did he step forth. They had nearly reached the border of the scrub when the accident happened. Before long there was a breath of wind, the trees widened, and presently they were in the open again, at a point somewhat below that of the camp from which they had started for the Falls. The great mountains rose in their solemn grandeur, and the outline of ridge and gully became distinct.
What a night it was, so still but for that faint breeze which made a mysterious murmur in the gum-trees; the stars glittering and the moon showing a pale milky radiance. There were more sounds here; the dingoes were nearer and more distinct in the river-bed, and by the lagoons there was the noise of wild duck swishing the reeds, and of the sweet plaintive cry of the curlew echoed from the swamps. No need now for Jack Nutty's pilotage. Blake touched Abatos with the spur, leaving the black boy with Elsie's lame horse far behind. They had reached a flat, one of those level tracts by the creek bank, and Abatos flew over it as lightly as a bird. Blake held Elsie closer; her head
