My eye rested on but one object; my whole being was concentrated upon one vague and undefined sense of revenge.

At this instant the huntsman came alongside of me.
"Are you hurted, Misther Charles?
Did you fall?
Your cheek is all blood, and your coat is torn in two; and, Mother o' God! his boot is ground to powder; he does not hear me! Oh, pull up! pull up, for the love of the Virgin! There's the clover-field and the sunk fence before you, and you'll be killed on the spot!" "Where ?" cried I, with the cry of a madman.

"Where's the clover-field; where's the sunk fence?
Ha! I see it; I see it now." So saying, I dashed the rowels into my horse's flanks, and in an instant was beyond the reach of the poor fellow's remonstances.

Another moment I was beside the captain.

He turned round as I came up; the same smile was upon his mouth; I could have struck him.