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Beatrix of Clare by John Reed Scott
page 49 of 353 (13%)

"Well, if she is, she is succeeding," Aymer observed. "She is gaining
on him at every jump. St. Denis! how that horse of hers can run!"

"It is Wilda, the bay mare I spoke of. But see, Darby still waves.
What in Heaven's name ails the man? Can it be the mare has bolted?"

De Lacy shook his head. "The Countess is making no effort to control
her; the reins are hanging loose."

Then they heard the first faint beat of the hoofs, growing louder and
louder, and presently with it Darby's cry:

"Stop her! Stop her!"

"Maybe, my lord," said De Lacy, leaning forward, his eyes intent upon
the Countess; "if the lady wish it she will signal."

Two hundred yards away now came Wilda running at terrific speed, but
straight and true. Suddenly De Lacy swung Selim around.

"It is a runaway," he called to Dacre, "the reins are useless." And
even as he said it the Countess told him the same by a motion of her
hand.

A moment more and she swept between them; but beside her went the
black, leap for leap with the bay. Then Aymer saw the trouble--the bit
had broken in the bar, tearing the mouth badly, and from each
cheek-strap dangled a useless half, which striking the frightened mare
on the muzzle kept driving her to top speed.
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