As I raised it, I eluded the pinioning grip
of the troopers. I twisted in their grasp, and brought the stool
down upon the head of one of them with a force that drove him to
his knees. Up went that three-legged stool again, to descend like
a thunderbolt upon the head of another. That freed me. The
sergeant was coming up behind, but another flourish of my improvised
battle-axe sent the two remaining soldiers apart to look to their
swords. Ere they could draw, I had darted like a hare between them
and out into the street. The sergeant, cursing them with horrid
volubility, followed closely upon my heels.
Leaping as far into the roadway as I could, I turned to meet the
fellow's onslaught. Using the stool as a buckler, I caught his
thrust upon it. So violently was it delivered that the point
buried itself in the wood and the blade snapped, leaving him a
hilt and a stump of steel. I wasted no time in thought. Charging
him wildly, I knocked him over just as the two unhurt dragoons
came stumbling out of the tavern.
I gained my horse and vaulted into the saddle. Tearing the reins
from the urchin that held them, and driving my spurs into the beast's
flanks, I went careering down the street at a gallop, gripping
tightly with my knees, whilst the stirrups, which I had had no time
to step into, flew wildly about my legs.
A pistol cracked behind me; then another, and a sharp, stinging pain
in the shoulder warned me that I was hit.
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