what he was doing, Gilbert vaulted into the high Spanish saddle. His hot Southern blood was all aflame with excitement.
"I'll run him down!" he muttered between his set teeth. "I'll run him down or know the reason why I cannot!" And, urging the horse forward, he was soon across the field and into the bushes, with not even a glance back to see how the major was faring.
The way was uncertain, and Gilbert knew that he was running a big risk in following General Adoz into an unknown territory which might be alive with insurgents. Yat he was in a truly reckless spirit and ready almost for anything. On and on he went, through several fields of low brush and across low stone fences. Then he came out on a well-formed natural highway, lined here and there with nipa huts. These huts he was pleased to note were deserted.
General Adoz had now secured control of his steed and was moving forward at a sharp trot. The officer often glanced back, and once he waved his sword savagely at Gilbert. In return the young lieutenant fired on him, the bullet cutting through the guerilla's coat sleeve, and making him take
