Part 8 (1/2)

And as they rode there came a faint hail from the front--and thrice repeated. The track at that point led through a wood and was straight away for half a mile, then it swung to the left. Just near the turn were two hors.e.m.e.n; and the rearmost, when he saw his cry had been heard, waved his hat and gesticulated violently toward the other, who was several lengths in front. Both were coming at top speed.

Sir James Dacre puckered his eyes and peered ahead.

”My sight is rather poor,” he said, ”but from yonder fellow's motions, I take it he wants us to stop the other--an escape doubtless.”

Just then the one in the lead shot through a patch of sunlight and both Knights cried out.

”A woman!” said De Lacy.

”The Countess!” exclaimed Dacre. ”What may it mean?”

”She went riding with Lord Darby shortly after mid-day,” said Aymer.

”And that is Darby,” added Dacre, as the sun hit the second horseman.

”Pardieu! I do not understand--it cannot be she is fleeing from him.”

They drew rein, and watched the approaching pair.

”Well, if she is, she is succeeding,” Aymer observed. ”She is gaining on him at every jump. St. Denis! how that horse of hers can run!”

”It is Wilda, the bay mare I spoke of. But see, Darby still waves.

What in Heaven's name ails the man? Can it be the mare has bolted?”

De Lacy shook his head. ”The Countess is making no effort to control her; the reins are hanging loose.”

Then they heard the first faint beat of the hoofs, growing louder and louder, and presently with it Darby's cry:

”Stop her! Stop her!”

”Maybe, my lord,” said De Lacy, leaning forward, his eyes intent upon the Countess; ”if the lady wish it she will signal.”

Two hundred yards away now came Wilda running at terrific speed, but straight and true. Suddenly De Lacy swung Selim around.

”It is a runaway,” he called to Dacre, ”the reins are useless.” And even as he said it the Countess told him the same by a motion of her hand.

A moment more and she swept between them; but beside her went the black, leap for leap with the bay. Then Aymer saw the trouble--the bit had broken in the bar, tearing the mouth badly, and from each cheek-strap dangled a useless half, which striking the frightened mare on the muzzle kept driving her to top speed.

The Countess gave De Lacy a quick smile.

”I am trying to enjoy it,” she said, ”but I think I am dreadfully frightened.”

Aymer glanced at the road--it was straight and level for another four hundred yards, then it disappeared, and he remembered it pitched sharply forward in a rough and twisting descent. Whatever he did must be done quickly--no horse ever foaled could carry its rider down that declivity at such a speed.

”Death waits yonder,” he said, pointing to the brow of the hill. ”I must lift you to my saddle. Will you risk it?”

She hesitated; then suddenly loosed her foot from the stirrup.

”I am ready,” she said--and smiled again.