Marcel and I turned into one of the cross streets, and saw a hundred yards ahead of us two officers in red-coats, riding at a great rate.
"So they are!" I replied, "and they must be ours!" We were wild with enthusiasm, and even with General Washington's lesson fresh in our memories, we thought little of consequences while in that state of mind.
We shouted to our horses, and followed the Englishmen at full speed, eager to make the capture. They heard the clattering of hoofs, and, seeing us, fled at a greater speed. We were but two, and no doubt they would have turned and fought us; but they knew the American army to be at our back, and there was nothing for them to do but gallop.
On they sped, lashing their horses, and after them came Marcel and I, also lashing our horses. The dust flew from the street, and pedestrians scuttled to safety.
"It will be something for us to talk of if we take them!" said Marcel.
"It must be done!" I replied, as I sought to draw more speed from my panting horse. The distance between us was decreasing, slowly it is true, but yet at a rate that could be noticed. I called Marcel's attention to our gain, and his face flushed with the hope of triumph.
"We shall take them to the general himself," he said, "and it will help us in his eyes."
The horses of the fugitives began to stagger, and I noticed it with exultation. Obviously, they could not escape us now. We soon gained rapidly, and I shouted to them to halt. One of the men whirled about quickly and fired a pistol. The bullet whizzed between Marcel and me, and its only result was to add anger to the motives that drew us on. We gained yet more rapidly, and cried anew to them to halt. A second pistol bullet was the reply, but, like its predecessor, it went wide of the target. We galloped on, and each of them fired at us again, and missed.
"We have them now!" cried Marcel. "Their pistols are empty, and they cannot reload them while going at this pace!"
In truth they were doomed apparently to be our prisoners and that, too, speedily. Our horses were the swifter and stronger, and our loaded pistols were in our belts. The fugitives seemed helpless.
They looked back as if studying their chances, and I saw their faces clearly. When they had fired their pistols, the glimpse had been too fleeting, but I knew them now. They were Vivian and Belfort.