I ran on, holding my cudgel in my hand (я продолжал бежать, держа в руке свою дубинку). Suddenly a horse came towards me (вдруг на меня выскочила лошадь). A man was on it, leaning over his shoulder (человек, сидящий на ней, перегнулся через плечо).
“Are you cooked too, Krafstein?” he cried (тебе тоже досталось: «тебя тоже поджарили», Крафштайн? – крикнул он;
There was no answer (ответа не было).
I sprang to the horse’s head (я подскочил к голове лошади). It was Rupert Hentzau (это был Руперт Хенцо).
“At last!” I cried (наконец-то! – крикнул я).
They hauled up the body. Just as it reached the road, three men on horseback swept round from the front of the Castle. We saw them; but, being on foot ourselves, we escaped their notice. But we heard our men coming up with a shout.
“The devil, but it’s dark!” cried a ringing voice.
It was young Rupert. A moment later, shots rang out. Our people had met them. I started forward at a run, Sapt and Fritz following me.
“Thrust, thrust!” cried Rupert again, and a loud groan following told that he himself was not behind-hand.
“I’m done, Rupert!” cried a voice. “They’re three to one. Save yourself!”
I ran on, holding my cudgel in my hand. Suddenly a horse came towards me. A man was on it, leaning over his shoulder.
“Are you cooked too, Krafstein?” he cried.
There was no answer.
I sprang to the horse’s head. It was Rupert Hentzau.
“At last!” I cried.
For we seemed to have him (потому что, казалось, мы взяли его = он попался). He had only his sword in his hand (у него был только меч, /который он держал/ в руке). My men were hot upon him (мои люди преследовали его по пятам;
“At last!” I cried.
“It’s the play-actor!” cried he, slashing at my cudgel (а, это лицедей! – воскликнул он, рубанув /мечом/ по моей дубинке). He cut it clean in two (он разрубил ее ровно надвое;
For we seemed to have him. He had only his sword in his hand. My men were hot upon him; Sapt and Fritz were running up. I had outstripped them; but if they got close enough to fire, he must die or surrender.
“At last!” I cried.
“It’s the play-actor!” cried he, slashing at my cudgel. He cut it clean in two; and, judging discretion better than death, I ducked my head and (I blush to tell it) scampered for my life. The devil was in Rupert Hentzau; for he put spurs to his horse, and I, turning to look, saw him ride, full gallop, to the edge of the moat and leap in, while the shots of our party fell thick round him like hail. With one gleam of moonlight we should have riddled him with balls; but, in the darkness, he won to the corner of the Castle, and vanished from our sight.
“The deuce take him!” grinned Sapt (черт его побери! – оскалился Сэпт).
“It’s a pity,” said I, “that he’s a villain (жаль, что он мерзавец). Whom have we got (кого мы взяли)?”