and flinging herself to the
ground, tried to approach the struggling animal. But, indeed, it was
horror and not fear that struck her motionless for a moment; for horse
and rider were mixed in awful confusion, and already Maude Falconer's
graceful form was stained with blood, and battered by the madly kicking
animal, now in its death-throes.

An instant after, before she could recover from her paralysis of
terror--the whole affair was one of a moment and had passed as quickly
as a flitting cloud--Stafford was by her side, and at work extricating
woman from horse. It was not an easy task, for though Adonis was now
dead, a part of Maude's body lay under his shoulder; but with utmost
herculean strength Stafford succeeded in getting her clear, and lifted
her out of the hole on to the grass. Kneeling beside him, Ida, calm
now, but trembling, raised Maude's head on her knee and wiped the blood
from the beautiful face. Its loveliness was not marred, there was no
bruise or cut upon it, the blood having flown from a wound just behind
the temple.

Stafford ran to the brook for some water and tried to force a few drops
through the clenched teeth, while Ida bathed the white brow. Suddenly a
tremor ran through him, and he put his hand over Maude's heart. It was
quite still; he bent his cheek to her lips; no breath met them. For a
moment or two he could not speak, then he stayed Ida's ministering
hand, and looking up at her, said:

"It is of no use. She is dead!"

CHAPTER XLIII.

The ball which Lady Clansford always gave about the middle of the
season is generally a very brilliant affair; but this year it was more
brilliant and, alas! more crowded than usual; for Lord Clansford was
connected, as everybody knows, with the great Trans-African Company,
and, as also everybody knows, that company had recovered from the blow
dealt it by the rising of the natives, and was now flourishing beyond
the most sanguine expectations of its owners; the Clansford coffers,
not to mention those of many other persons, were overflowing, and Lord
Clansford could afford a somewhat magnificent hospitality.

Howard, as he made his way up the crowded stairs, smiled cynically to
himself as he caught sight of a little knot of financiers who stood
just outside the great doors of the _salon_. They were all
there--Griffenberg, Wirsch, the Beltons, Efford, and Fitzharford; and
they were all smiling and in the best of humours, presenting by their
appear