At the gate of the hunting-park grounds he bent forward in the saddle to
lift the chain that held it; urged his horse inside, bent down to
refasten it, and as his fingers clutched the iron a man rose in the
shadow of the little lodge and clasped him about the middle. The iron
chain swung free and rattled against the post, and the horse snorted with
fright, then, at a word from Oscar, was still. There was the barest
second of waiting, in which the long arms tightened, and the great body
of his assailant hung heavily about him; then he dug spurs into the
horse's flanks and the animal leaped forward with a snort of rage, jumped
out of the path and tore away through the woods.
Oscar's whole strength was taxed to hold his seat as the burly figure
thumped against the horse's flanks. He had hoped to shake the man off,
but the great arms still clasped him. The situation could not last. Oscar
took advantage of the moonlight to choose a spot in which to terminate
it. He had his bearings now, and as they crossed an opening in the wood
he suddenly loosened his grip on the horse and flung himself backward.
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