et her have it out, or rather to lend her
a lift. 'Twill be over the sooner. Tantivy, lass! tantivy! I know which
of us will tire first."

We have before said that the vehement excitement of continued swift
riding produces a paroxysm in the sensorium amounting to delirium.
Dick's blood was again on fire. He was first giddy, as after a deep
draught of kindling spirit; this passed off, but the spirit was still
in his veins--the _estro_ was working in his brain. All his ardor, his
eagerness, his fury, returned. He rode like one insane, and his courser
partook of his frenzy. She bounded; she leaped; she tore up the ground
beneath her; while Dick gave vent to his exultation in one wild,
prolonged halloo. More than half his race is run. He has triumphed over
every difficulty. He will have no further occasion to halt. Bess carries
her forage along with her. The course is straightforward--success seems
certain--the goal already reached--the path of glory won. Another wild
halloo, to which the echoing woods reply, and away!

Away! away! thou matchless steed! yet brace fast thy sinews--hold, hold
thy breath, for, alas! the goal is not yet attained!

But forward! forward, on they go,
High snorts the straining steed,
Thick pants the rider's laboring breath,
As headlong on they speed!

_CHAPTER X_

_THE GIBBET_

See there, see there, what yonder swings
And creaks 'mid whistling rain,
Gibbet and steel--the accursed wheel--
A murderer in his chain.

_William and Helen._

As the eddying currents sweep over its plains in howling, bleak
December, the horse and her rider passed over what remained of
Lincolnshire. Grantham is gone, and they are now more slowly looking up
the ascent of Gonerby Hill, a path well known to Turpin; where often, in
bygone nights, many a purse had changed its owner. With that feeling of
independence and exhilaration which every one feels, we believe, on
having climbed the hill-side, Turpin turned to gaze around. There was
triumph in his eye. But the triumph was checked as his glance fell upon
a gibbet near him to the right, on the round point of hill which is a
landmark to the wide vale of Belvoir. Pressed as he was for time, Dick
immediately struck out of the road, and approached the spot where it
stood. Two scarecrow objects, covered with rags and rusty links of
chains, depended from the tree. A night c