il night; there were no sounds but a few low notes of a nightingale,
and nothing moved but the white clouds near the moon and a brown owl
that flitted over the hedge. It made me think of the summer nights long
ago, when I used to lie beside my mother in the green pleasant meadow at
Farmer Grey's.

26 How it Ended

It must have been nearly midnight when I heard at a great distance the
sound of a horse's feet. Sometimes the sound died away, then it grew
clearer again and nearer. The road to Earlshall led through woods that
belonged to the earl; the sound came in that direction, and I hoped it
might be some one coming in search of us. As the sound came nearer and
nearer I was almost sure I could distinguish Ginger's step; a little
nearer still, and I could tell she was in the dog-cart. I neighed
loudly, and was overjoyed to hear an answering neigh from Ginger, and
men's voices. They came slowly over the stones, and stopped at the dark
figure that lay upon the ground.

One of the men jumped out, and stooped down over it. "It is Reuben," he
said, "and he does not stir!"

The other man followed, and bent over him. "He's dead," he said; "feel
how cold his hands are."

They raised him up, but there was no life, and his hair was soaked with
blood. They laid him down again, and came and looked at me. They soon
saw my cut knees.

"Why, the horse has been down and thrown him! Who would have thought the
black horse would have done that? Nobody thought he could fall. Reuben
must have been lying here for hours! Odd, too, that the horse has not
moved from the place."

Robert then attempted to lead me forward. I made a step, but almost fell
again.

"Halloo! he's bad in his foot as well as his knees. Look here--his hoof
is cut all to pieces; he might well come down, poor fellow! I tell you
what, Ned, I'm afraid it hasn't been all right with Reuben. Just think
of his riding a horse over these stones without a shoe! Why, if he had
been in his right senses he would just as soon have tried to ride him
over the moon. I'm afraid it has been the old thing over again. Poor
Susan! she looked awfully pale when she came to my house to ask if
he had not come home. She made believe she was not a bit anxious, and
talked of a lot of things that might have kept him. But for all that she
begged me to go and meet him. But what must we do? There's the horse to
get home as well as the body, and that will be no easy matter."

Then followe