Too probably it would fall dead on reaching the banks of the Obi, when,
either by boat or by swimming, he must cross this important river.
This was what Michael had before him.
His energy and courage increased in sight of danger.
His life, his mission, his country, perhaps the safety of his mother,
were at stake. He could not hesitate.
There was not a moment to be lost. Already there was a slight
movement among the men of the detachment. A few horsemen
were strolling up and down the road in front of the wood.
The rest were still lying at the foot of the trees, but their
horses were gradually penetrating towards the center of the wood.
Michael had at first thought of seizing one of these horses,
but he recollected that, of course, they would be as fatigued
as his own. It was better to trust to his own brave steed,
which had already rendered him such important service.
The good animal, hidden behind a thicket, had escaped the sight
of the Usbecks. They, besides, had not penetrated so far
into the wood.
Michael crawled up to his horse through the grass, and found him
lying down. He patted and spoke gently to him, and managed to raise
him without noise. Fortunately, the torches were entirely consumed,
and now went out, the darkness being still profound under shelter
of the larches. After replacing the bit, Michael looked to his
girths and stirrups, and began to lead his horse quietly away.
The intelligent animal followed his master without even making
the least neigh.
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