A Gentleman from Gascony: A Romance of the Huguenots — page 19: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE LAST OF HIS RACE, 15 The girl made a gesture expressive of helplessness, but said no more. Raoul paid his reckoning, and, after a cheery good- night to the gypsies, left the sordid inn, mounted his horse, and was soon on his way to Creux. Night had fallen. There was no moon, and it was so dark that the poor horse, whom neither threats nor cajoleries could induce to move faster than a walk, had difficulty in picking his way. Raoul finally ceased his efforts, and, allowing his steed to proceed at his own gait, gave himself up to reflection. He had ridden thus slowly for perhaps an hour, when suddenly he was startled by the neighing of a horse just beyond a hedge on one side of the highway. The next moment a heavy body alighted with a thump just behind him upon the haunches of his spiritless animal. Before he could utter a cry or make a movement for defence, a thick cloak was flung over his head, and he was dragged from his horse, which had stopped short at the disturbance. He felt himself in the grasp of four muscular arms, and struggled furiously to free himself, but all in vain. He was raised from his feet and dashed violently down upon the hard roadway. He felt a terrible pain dart _through his temple, as his head came in contact with some unyielding object, and then he knew no more, Consciousness had left him. Conmileloooks (c@) inn