But she kent her horse in the passing, and well she kent his rider.
"Come on," I cried to Hugh, and gathered my horse under me, for I was all but thrown.
"No, no; they're married," cried Margaret, and cut again at the black, although he was half maddened already.
As he leapt from the lash I heard Helen—
"Ah, Hillman," she cried (now Hillman was a by-name for Bryde), and then, "Where is the so great calm of Margaret?"
"The gaugers are at the Clates—Gilchrist and Dol Beag and Bryde and
Dan. Can ye not see what will come of it?" I know not what I cried to
Hugh as we galloped.
But at my words Helen leaned forward on her saddle, and coaxed her horse in a whisper, and he stretched to the gallop like a hound.
"A droll beginning this," said Hugh. "Helter-skelter ower the countryside for a wheen gangers. What sort o' bridal night is this? Could they no' keep their dirty fighting out o' my marriage. . . ."
"Ye were not meant to ken, Hugh."
"And I wish I did not ken. God, look at Helen—look at my wife—look at yon."