rm.

"I will go," he said.

Batouch looked vicious. "But Monsieur told me he did not----"

He stopped. The hand on his arm had given him a wrench that made him
feel as if his flesh were caught between steel pincers. Androvsky came
up to the chestnut.

"Oh, it's an Arab saddle," said Domini.

"It does not matter, Madame."

His face was stern.

"Are you accustomed to them?"

"It makes no difference."

He took hold of the rein and put his foot in the high stirrup, but so
awkwardly that he kicked the horse in the side. It plunged.

"Take care!" said Domini.

Androvsky hung on, and climbed somehow into the saddle, coming down in
it heavily, with a thud. The horse, now thoroughly startled, plunged
furiously and lashed out with its hind legs. Androvsky was thrown
forward against the high red peak of the saddle with his hands on the
animal's neck. There was a struggle. He tugged at the rein violently.
The horse jumped back, reared, plunged sideways as if about to bolt.
Androvsky was shot off and fell on his right shoulder heavily. Batouch
caught the horse while Androvsky got up. He was white with dust. There
was even dust on his face and in his short hair. He looked passionate.

"You see," Batouch began, speaking to Domini, "that Monsieur cannot--"

"Give me the rein!" said Androvsky.

There was a sound in his deep voice that was terrible. He was looking
not at Domini, but at the priest, who stood a little aside with an
expression of concern on his face. Bous-Bous barked with excitement
at the conflict. Androvsky took the rein, and, with a sort of furious
determination, sprang into the saddle and pressed his legs against
the horse's flanks. It reared up. The priest moved back under the
palm trees, the Arab boys scattered. Batouch sought the shelter of the
arcade, and the horse, with a short, whining neigh that was like a
cry of temper, bolted between the trunks of the trees, heading for the
desert, and disappeared in a flash.

"He will be killed," said the priest.

Bous-Bous barked frantically.

"It is his own fault," said the poet. "He told me himself just now that
he did not know how to ride."

"Why didn't you tell me so?" Domini exclaimed.

"Madame----"

But she was gone, following Androvsky at a slow canter lest she should
frighten his horse by coming up behind it. She came out from the shade
of the palms into the sun. The desert lay before her. She searched it
eagerly with her eyes and saw Androv