ter of hoofs, but ere they could swing the ox-hide curtains of
their cottage doors horse and rider were lost amid the high bracken of
the Haslemere Valley. On he went, and on, tossing the miles behind his
flying hoofs. No marsh-land could clog him, no hill could hold him back.
Up the slope of Linchmere and the long ascent of Fernhurst he thundered
as on the level, and it was not until he had flown down the incline of
Henley Hill, and the gray castle tower of Midhurst rose over the coppice
in front, that at last the eager outstretched neck sank a little on
the breast, and the breath came quick and fast. Look where he would in
woodland and on down, his straining eyes could catch no sign of those
plains of freedom which he sought.

And yet another outrage! It was bad that this creature should
still cling so tight upon his back, but now he would even go to the
intolerable length of checking him and guiding him on the way that he
would have him go. There was a sharp pluck at his mouth, and his head
was turned north once more. As well go that way as another, but the man
was mad indeed if he thought that such a horse as Pommers was at the
end of his spirit or his strength. He would soon show him that he was
unconquered, if it strained his sinews or broke his heart to do so. Back
then he flew up the long, long ascent. Would he ever get to the end of
it? Yet he would not own that he could go no farther while the man still
kept his grip. He was white with foam and caked with mud. His eyes were
gorged with blood, his mouth open and gasping, his nostrils expanded,
his coat stark and reeking. On he flew down the long Sunday Hill until
he reached the deep Kingsley Marsh at the bottom. No, it was too much!
Flesh and blood could go no farther. As he struggled out from the reedy
slime with the heavy black mud still clinging to his fetlocks, he at
last eased down with sobbing breath and slowed the tumultuous gallop to
a canter.

Oh, crowning infamy! Was there no limit to these degradations? He was no
longer even to choose his own pace. Since he had chosen to gallop so far
at his own will he must now gallop farther still at the will of another.
A spur struck home on either flank. A stinging whip-lash fell across his
shoulder. He bounded his own height in the air at the pain and the shame
of it. Then, forgetting his weary limbs, forgetting his panting, reeking
sides, forgetting everything save this intolerable insult and the
burning spiri