My legs trembled at the thought, but the more I considered it the better it seemed. They’d never believe I’d risk it, so they wouldn’t look thereaway. It was horribly chancy, but I was certain that if Hudson had been with me that was the way he’d have pointed. Let me get a horse—no matter how—and I could be over the Strackenz border by nightfall and galloping south. I’d have to beg, hire, borrow, or steal, changes on the way—well, it wouldn’t be the first time. I might even use the railway, if it seemed safe to do so. At any rate I was free, for the moment, and if they could catch old Flashy with the wind up him—well, they were smarter fellows than I thought they were.

I hurried on down the hillside, and found myself after half an hour or so on more level land, where the trees thinned out. There was a wisp of smoke coming from behind a copse, and I stole forward cautiously to have a look-see. There was a little farm-building with great trees behind it, but no one about except a few cows in the field to one side and an old dog drowsing in the yard. It didn’t look like the kind of place where the new ducal consort of Strackenz would be known, which suited me—the fewer folk who got a glimpse of me, the less chance Bismarck’s bullies had of getting on my track.

I was wondering whether to go forward boldly, or scout round for a horse to pinch, when the farm door opened and an old man in gaiters and a sugar-loaf hat came out. He was a peasant, with a face like a walnut, and when he saw me he brought up short and stood glowering at me, the way country folk do at everyone who hasn’t got dung on his boots. I gave him a civil good-day, and told him my horse had thrown me while I was riding in the Jotun Gipfel; could he oblige me with a remount, for which I would pay generously? And I showed him a handful of crowns.