And this was well, for every dead man among them would have been worth 100,000 guldens.
Fatia Negra and his horsemen stood close at hand with their loaded muskets pointed in their hands, but they did not fire.
"Let the lancers run if they like!" cried Fatia Negra.

"Give all your attention to the wagons!" The cavalry soon escaped from the mob of sharpshooters, leaped over the barriers and began galloping rapidly back to Szeb safe and sound.

And they had need to haste, for it was easy to foresee that as soon as the cry of victory behind their backs had changed into a cry of fury, it would be a sign that Fatia Negra's band was rushing after them.
And, indeed, scarce a quarter of an hour had elapsed, when they could perceive clouds of dust whirling up behind them which proved that the audacious adventurers, after discovering the fraud, were actually in pursuit.
What unheard of audacity! In broad daylight, on the King's highway, within the borders of a highly civilized, well-organized state, a troop of adventurers dares to attack an equal number of trained soldiers.

Gold must have turned the heads of the men who had the audacity to do such a thing! Yet they did it.
The soldiers saw the cloud of dust behind their backs gradually draw nearer, the neutral ground between gradually diminished, the fellows were capitally mounted, there could be no doubt of that.
The lieutenant ordered his men to halt and face the foolhardy bandits.
He arranged them two deep and spread them out so that they extended right across the road.

He himself stood in the centre a little in advance of the rest; the civilians were in the rear.
Presently single shapes were discernible through the approaching cloud of dust.