'D— it! put her head down; lean forward,' bellowed Wealdon again.
But it would not do. With a crash among briars, and a heavy thump from beneath that shook the earth, the mare and her rider went over. A shout of horror broke from us all; and Jekyl, watching the catastrophe, was very near pulling our horse over the edge, and launching us all together, like the captain, into the defile.
In a moment more we were all on the ground, and scrambling down the side of the ravine, among rocks, boughs, brambles, and ferns, in the deep shadows of the gorge, the dogs still yelling furiously from below.
'Here he is,' cried Jekyl. 'How are you, Lake? Much hurt, old boy? By
Jove, he's killed, I think.'
Lake groaned.
He lay about twelve feet below the edge. The mare, now lying near the bottom of the gorge, had, I believe, fallen upon him, and then tumbled over.
Strange to say, Lake was conscious, and in a few seconds, he said, in reply to the horrified questions of his friend—
'I'm all smashed. Don't move me;' and, in a minute more—'Don't mind that d—d brute; she's killed. Let her lie.'
It appeared very odd, but so it was, he appeared eager upon this point, and, faint as he was, almost savage.
'Tell them to let her lie there.'