I shall come to you--perhaps I may be there before you.

Do not say a word, brother,--you need not.

I _must have that horse_; and I shall capture him if it cost me a fifty-mile gallop." While Basil was speaking, he drew closer to his left stirrup, looked to the lasso that hung coiled upon the horn of his saddle, and then stood ready to mount.

Lucien saw it was of no use to urge his advice farther, and ceased to interfere.

Francois would fondly have joined Basil in the chase; but his diminutive pony rendered the idea too absurd to be acted upon.
During all this time the wild horses had continued their evolutions.