It was not long before those two forgot me, and rode side by side
talking. Maybe I forgot them, for the last time I was on the cliff
tops was across the channel, and I minded the two with whom I rode
then--Howel and Nona.

Then suddenly the ringing of the horn roused us, and Erpwald came
toward me, thinking that, of course, Elfrida was close after him,
but with his eyes too intently watching the place where I had said
a deer was most likely to break cover to notice much else. I was
some twenty paces farther from the edge than they. The horses
pricked up their ears at the well-known sound, and stood with
lifted heads watching as eagerly as we.

Then there came a little cry from Elfrida as she bade her horse
stand, and I heard it trampling sharply, as if restive, behind us.
I turned in my saddle to see what was amiss, and what I saw made my
blood run cold, and the sweat broke out on my forehead in a moment.

With the sound of the horn and the moving away of Erpwald the horse
had waxed restive, as horses will at a cover side when the time to
move on seems near. I think that it had probably reared a little
and that she had tried to check it, for now it was backing slowly
and uneasily toward the edge of that awesome cliff that was but ten
paces from its heels. Even now the girl was backing him yet more in
her efforts to make him stand still, and I dared not make a move to
catch the bridle lest he should swing round at once from me and go
over.

"Spur him, Elfrida. Let his head go, and spur him," I said as
quietly as I could, but so that she must needs hear.