un back to the boat"; and twining the
fingers of my left hand in her mane, I took a spring and landed my small
person prone between the two kegs, with no more damage than a barked
shin-bone.

And at that very instant I heard a shrill whistle and many sudden cries
of alarm; and a noise of shouting and galloping across the beach; and
was raising my head to look when the mare rose too, upon her hind legs,
and with the fling of her neck caught me a blow on the nose that made me
see stars. And then long jets of fire seemed to mingle with the stars,
and I heard the _pop-pop_ of pistol-shots and more shouting.

But before this we were off and away--I still flat on the mare's back,
with a hand in her mane and my knees wedged against the tubs; away and
galloping for the head of the beach, with the whole troop of laden
horses pounding at our heels. I could see nothing but the loom of the
cliff ahead and the white shingle underfoot; and I thought of nothing
but to hold on--and well it was that I did, for else the horses behind
had certainly trampled me flat in the darkness. But all the while I
heard shouting, louder and louder, and now came more pounding of hoofs
alongside, or a little ahead, and a tall man on horseback sprang out of
the night, and, cannoning against the mare's shoulder, reached out a
hand to catch her by rein, mane, or bridle. I should say that we raced
in this way, side by side, for ten seconds or so. I could see the gilt
buttons twinkling on his sleeve as he reached past my nose, and finding
neither bit nor rein, laid his hand at length right on top of mine. I
believe that, till then, the riding-officer--it was he, for the next
time I saw a riding-officer I recognised the buttons--had no guess of
anyone's being on the mare's back. But instead of the oath that I
expected, he gave a shrill scream, and his arm dropped, for the mare had
turned and caught it in her teeth, just above the elbow. The next
moment she picked up her stride again, and forged past him. As he
dropped back, a bullet or two sang over us, and one went _ping!_ into
the right-hand keg. But I had no time to be afraid, for the mare's neck
rose again and caught me another sad knock on the nose as she heaved
herself up the cliff-track, and now I had work to grip the edge of the
keg, and twine my left hand tighter in her mane to prevent myself
slipping back over her tail, and on to those deadly hoofs. Up we went,
the loose stones flying be