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The horse he had snatched was a fleet curtal bay, and responded readily enough to the clap of heels to his flanks. Sir Nicholas held him on his course with a hard hand, heard behind him shouts and the trampling of the horses he had cut loose by his sudden onslaught on the guard who held them, and pressed on. The noise died away, only the pounding of the bay's hooves on the track now broke the stillness.
Where the track came out on the post-road a crowd was gathered, peering and listening. The news of the guards' coming and the prey they sought had spread through the village; there were assembled now some peasants, agape, and servants of the Carvalho estate, fingering staves. Lanterns bobbed and twinkled amongst them, but the moon was coming up, and a faint grey light already made the lanterns superfluous.