Eleanora, however, thought of nothing but the excitement of the race; and when upon the sixth round the field came sweeping up towards the spot where she had placed herself, just within the friendly shade of the adjacent forest, her face was flushed with excitement, and she cried gaily,—
"Edward wins—the Prince wins!" just as he brought his panting and foam-stained horse to a halt beside her.
Edward leaped from the saddle, and made his cousin a graceful bow. There was a slight rustle in the thicket close behind.
"Farewell, sweet cousin," he cried; "we shall meet again ere long, I trow!" and before any of those about him had taken in the sense of these words, the Prince had vaulted upon the back of a strong young horse, led forth that moment by an unseen hand.
With a shout and an oath Henry de Montfort sprang forward, but was forcibly held back by young De Clare. The next minute the Prince was galloping off at a pace which rendered it impossible for any of the jaded horses to strive to emulate.
"Farewell, gentlemen," cried Edward, waving his hand; "I thank you for your courtesy and good company these many days. And tell my royal father that I shall soon see him out of ward! A merry meeting to us all another day!"
The last words were inaudible. Already the receding figure was disappearing from their view.
De Clare burst into a loud laugh, and turning fiercely upon Henry de Montfort he cried,—
"Ride after him and welcome if thou wilt, young fool! He is by this time with Roger Mortimer and a goodly following, who will hack thee in pieces with a right good will! I go to join them and my noble brother. Neither Gloucester nor England will long be content to be ruled by King Simon the usurper!"
Note.—The escape of Prince Edward really took place from Hereford, though in the same fashion as that described above.