on
either side. The first pinnacles were gained in safety. Just beyond them
the path twisted to the right. Black Boy's stride had carried him too near
the left-hand pillar. An angry jerk of the reins emphasised his mistake. He
resented it, as he had resented much in his treatment that morning already.
His head came round furiously, his heels slipped in the crumbling gravel,
he kicked out wildly for safer holding, and in a moment he was over.

At the first feel of insecurity behind, Torode slipped deftly out of the
saddle. He still held the reins and endeavoured to drag the poor beast up.
But Black Boy's heels were kicking frantically, now on thin air, now for a
second against an impossible slope of rock which offered no foothold. For a
moment he hung by his forelegs curved in rigid agony, his nostrils wide and
red, his eyes full of frantic appeal, his ears flat to his head, his poor
face pitiful in its desperation. Torode shouted to him, dragged at the
reins--released them just in time.

Those who saw it never forgot that last look on Black Boy's face, never
lost the rending horror of his scream as his forelegs gave and he sank out
of sight, never forgot the hideous sound of his fall as he rolled down the
cliff to the rocks below.

The girls hid their faces and sank sobbing into the heather. The men cursed
Torode volubly, and regretted that he had not gone with Black Boy.

And it was none but black looks that greeted him when, after standing a
moment, he came on across the Coupee and joined the rest.

"It is a misfortune," he said brusquely, as he came among us.

"It is sheer murder and brutality," said Charles Vaudin roughly.

"Guyabble! It's you that ought to be down there, not yon poor brute," said
Guerin.

"Tuts then! A horse! I'll make him good to Hamon."

"And, unless I'm mistaken, you promised him not to ride the Coupee," I said
angrily, for I knew how George Hamon would feel about Black Boy.

"Diable! I believe I did, but I forgot all about it in seeing you others
crawling across. Will you lend me your horse to ride back, Carre?
Mademoiselle rides home with me."

"Mademoiselle does not, and I won't lend you a hair of him."

"That was the understanding. Mademoiselle promised."

"Well, she will break her promise,--with better reason than you had. I
shall see her safely home."

"Right, Phil! Stick to that!" said the others; and Torode looking round
felt himself in a very small minority, and turned s