This was satisfactory, for it suggested that she had been undeceived about Gladwyne; but she had not finished.
“What did you see this morning?” she asked, and he felt that she was speaking with keen anxiety.
“I’ll tell you, but it must never go any farther. I hate to think of it! But first of all, what makes you ask?”
She had already mentioned that she had been near when Gladwyne made his attempt to come up with Lisle, but she had not explained that she had seen hatred stamped in hideous plainness on his face.
“Never mind,” she answered sharply. “Go on!”
“Well,” said Jim, “I was standing right against the hedge, the only person on that side, and I don’t think Gladwyne saw me. Lisle’s bay fouled the top bar of the hurdle, but it held long enough to bring him down in a heap. Gladwyne was then a length or two behind. He rode straight at the broken hurdle, hands still—I can’t get his look out of my mind!”
“But perhaps he couldn’t pull up,” Bella defended him desperately, as if she would not believe the truth she dreaded.
“There were other ways open. He could have gone at the hedge a yard or two on one side; he could have spoiled the chestnut’s take-off and made him jump short. It might have brought him down—the hurdle was firm in the ground—but that would have been better than riding over a fallen man!”
“Are you sure he did nothing?”
“I wish I were not! The thing’s horrible! Gladwyne must have seen that he’d come down on Lisle or the struggling bay—he could have prevented it—he didn’t try.”