With a clatter of eager hoofs Anthony's raking sorrel sprang ahead; but away in pursuit leapt my beautiful roan, shapely head out-thrust, snorting, quivering, passionate for the fray.
Off and away, with the rhythmic swing and beat of swift-galloping hoofs below and the rush of wind above—a clean, sweet wind, full of health and sanity, to banish haunting dread and gloomy doubts of the future together with the devils that begot them, be they blue devils, black, or any other colour.
Faster and faster sped the road beneath me, hedges spun by, tree and gate flitted past as, untouched by whip or spur, Wildfire fell to his long, racing stride, an easy, stretching gallop. And ever he gained upon the sorrel, creeping up inch by inch, crupper and withers and nose; and thus we raced awhile, neck and neck. And now above quick-thudding hoofs and creaking leather I heard Anthony's voice urging his animal to fiercer effort, for slowly but surely, we were drawing away; slowly the sorrel's great crest and flaring nostrils fell to the rear, back and back, level with my gloved hands, my knee, my elbow, out of my view, and presently, glancing behind, I saw Anthony riding like a centaur—a wildly-galloping figure blurred in a storm of dust.
But on I rode, heedless of all but the exhilaration of rushing wind, of back-whirling hedgerows and trees, on and on until before us was a hill up which a chaise was crawling.
Now as I watched this vehicle carelessly enough, out from the window came a hatless head—an arm that waved imperiously, and the postboy, glancing back, began to flog his animals to swifter gait. But Wildfire, snorting scorn on all hills and this in particular, never so much as checked or faltered in his long stride and thus we approached the lumbering chaise rapidly.
We were close upon it when once again the head projected itself from the window, but now the face was turned towards me, and in these features I seemed to read a very lively apprehension, nay, as I drew nearer, I saw above the bushy, scowling brows the gleam of sweat; but on I came with loosened rein, heedless of the gentleman's threatening look and wondering at his very evident perturbation; and now I saw that he grasped something half-hidden in the fold of his coat that bulked remarkably like a pistol. But all at once, as he peered at me through the rolling smother of dust, his apprehensive expression vanished and, next moment, his head also, and as I drew level with the chaise, I saw him leaning back in one corner, the pistol upon his knees, and in the other corner the form of a woman wrapped in a pelisse and heavily veiled and who, judging by her posture, seemed asleep.
It was but a glimpse I caught of the interior and then I was by, had reached the summit of the hill and was galloping down the descent, but even so it seemed to me that the gentleman's face was vaguely familiar.
Mile upon mile I held on at this wild speed until Anthony and his sorrel had diminished to a faint, oncoming dust-cloud and Wildfire began to abate his ardour somewhat; as he breasted a long and steep ascent crowned by a hostelry, I, blinking at it through dust-whitened lashes, saw it bore a sign with the words: The Porto Bello Inn. Here I dismounted from my chastened steed, who, if a little blown, was no whit distressed, and forthwith led him to the stables myself, to see him rubbed down and cared for, the while a hissing ostler knocked, shook and brushed from my garments clouds of Kentish dust. In the midst of which performance up rode Anthony.
"Well—damme!" he exclaimed, as he swung to earth, "I said a milestone—"
"True, Anthony, but I felt inclined for a gallop—"