Yes, here they are. The flying train of meteors flashing past! They are gone while we look! Unaccustomed eyes cannot trace their flight, or distinguish one horse from another in the lightning-like passage. A moment more and the goal is won!
By whom?
It is not certainly known to the crowd just yet. They say:
“Lightfoot!”
“Wing!”
“Wonder!”
No, none of these. The number flies up on the winning post:
Number Seven!
And a thousand voices cry out:
“Fairy Queen!”