He came to a halt.
"When they came right under the cliff, I couldn't see from the top. So
I came down here."
He lifted his face to the sun.
"And that was how they caught me—cornered me here—while I was watching—the sea on all sides but one—and they on that."
His face was dusky now.
"Her whinny was the first thing that woke me. I turned to see her coming towards me at a stumbling canter—like a hurt child running to its mother."
His eyes were shut, his voice strangely still.
"They'd run her through—a lady—who thought them friends."
A great vein stood out blue on his temple.
"I wouldn't have believed it of an Englishman."