16
Thomas was now on top of Bulow, hitting him repeatedly with his pistol.
“Thomas please stop!”
Rachel had followed him out. Thomas checked his downward swing and delivered his next blow directly into the ground adjacent to Bulow’s head. Thomas stood up and grabbed the rifle at his feet. Holding it by the barrel, he swung it at the stone wall of the house. On the first blow, the rifle’s wooden stock fell off, but Thomas’s rage remained unspent. He continued to strike the rifle against the wall, rendering it useless. Rachel looked in the direction of the barn and could see William now attempting to mount one of the horses.
“William. Wait!” She shouted as she charged toward him.
William had found an unsaddled horse tied to a pole. He struggled to untie its bridle and mount its back. After two attempts, he managed to sit astride the horse. William’s only focus was to get as far from this place as possible. At any moment he expected a third bullet to imbed itself into his trembling body.
Rachel had lifted her ankle-length skirt in both hands and was running toward the barn. She could see that William had managed to mount the horse and was already at a full gallop.
“William, wait!”
Thomas heard his sister and could see the figure on horseback galloping away from the barn. By now Bulow lay on the ground unconscious, his head bleeding. Bent-ley and two other servants had arrived.
“Bentley, see that Bulow’s hands are tied and tend to his wounds. Send one of the men to fetch the sheriff. Before anything else, saddle up one of our fastest horses so I can catch up to our guest.”
“Sir, Lightning, the horse Mr. William is riding, is our fastest horse.”
Thomas was already running in the direction of the barn. Rachel was standing like a statue, staring at the now distant horseman. As her brother ran by her she whispered:
“Thomas, please bring him back safely.”