"Left!" screamed Mary through the roar of the racing air, and turned her
horse off up the road that led round in a wide sweep of two miles to East
Maskells and the woods beyond, and Anthony followed. He had settled down
in the saddle now, and had brought his maddened horse under control; his
feet were in the stirrups, but there was no lessening of the speed. They
had left the last house now, and on either side the black bushes and
heatherland streamed past, with the sudden gleam of water here and there
under the starlight that showed the ditches and holes with which the
ground on either side of the road was honeycombed.

Then Mary turned her head again, and the words came detached and sharp.

"They are after us--could not help--horses saddled."

Anthony turned his head to release one ear from the roar of the air, and
heard the thundering rattle of hoofs in the distance, but even as he
listened it grew fainter.

"We are gaining!" he shouted.

Mary nodded, and her teeth gleamed white in a smile.

"Ours are fresh," she screamed.

Then there was silence between them again; they had reached a little hill
and eased their horses up it; a heavy fringe of trees crowned it on their
right, black against the stars, and a gleam of light showed the presence
of a house among them. Farther and farther behind them sounded the hoofs;
then they were swaying and rocking again down the slope that led to the
long flat piece of road that ended in the slope up to East Maskells. It
was softer going now and darker too, as there were trees overhead;
pollared willows streamed past them as they went; and twice there was a
snort and a hollow thunder of hoofs as a young sleeping horse awoke and
raced them a few yards in the meadows at the side. Once Anthony's horse
shied at a white post, and drew in front a yard or two; and he heard for
a moment under the rattle the cool gush of the stream that flowed beneath
the road and the scream of a water-fowl as she burst from the reeds.

A great exultation began to fill Anthony's heart. What a ride this was,
in the glorious summer night--reckless and intoxicating! What a contrast,
this sweet night air streaming past him, this dear world of living
things, his throbbing horse beneath him, the birds and beasts round him,
and this gallant girl swaying and rejoicing too beside him! What a
contrast was all this to that terrible afternoon, only a few hours
away--of suspense and skulking like a rat in a sewer;