"Well, then, I shall enter without his permission! You are free to
declare me the winner. I shall be left to make a walkover, I see!"
And setting off at a gallop along the bridle-path, which was obstructed a
little farther on by the fence itself, she struck her horse resolutely,
and with one audacious bound sprang over the entrance gate. She was now
on the steeplechase track.

"You are mad!" cried the General, who, as much concerned for her safety
as for his own pride, urged on his mare, and, clearing the fence, landed
beside Zibeline on the other side.

"All right!" she cried, in English, dropping her whip, as the starter
drops the flag at the beginning of a race.

The die was cast. Henri bent over Aida's neck, leaning his hands upon
her withers in an attitude with which experience had made him familiar,
and followed the Amazon, determined to win at all hazards.

Zibeline's groom, an Englishman, formerly a professional jockey, had
already jumped the fence, in spite of the cries of the guard, who ran to
prevent him, and coolly galloped after his mistress, keeping at his usual
distance.

The first two hedges, which were insignificant obstacles for such horses,
were crossed without effort.

"Not the brook, I beg of you!" cried Henri, seeing that, instead of
running past the grand-stand, Zibeline apparently intended to attempt
this dangerous feat.