And then out of the blackness shot a headlong figure, cleaving it like an arrow. That blur beneath was the final jump, the last hedge that barred the way with its ragged line. And he charged it as if it were not there, keeping on in his tremendous rush.
"Barnaby!" they shouted. They knew his laugh before they could see his face.
"A near thing," he said, and pulled up the black mare, who turned her head towards him as he dismounted, her eye-balls glistening in the darkness with something like human pride.
"You didn't steady her there," said Kilgour.
"Steady her?—We had to come for all we were worth!" he said.
The Duchess, striding afoot, made her way into the circle round him. Barnaby was explaining how he had ridden into one of the lantern-bearers, a silly fool who had turned his light and was standing into the hedge; and how he had got off to make sure the poor devil wasn't injured. He had had to ride after that like fury; no leisure to grope his way....
"Since you are not smashed up," said the Duchess, shaking him by the arm, "go and show yourself to your wife. You nearly frightened her to death."
She piloted him to the buggy, and stood by, with her unsentimental countenance considerately averted.
"I am so glad you won," said Susan. She spoke steadily, controlling the traitorous catch in her throat. How was she to assure him that she was not guilty of causing him to be dragged to her side?
The man smiled at her stiff politeness. He was still hot, still breathing a little hard, the spell of his ride still on him;—and Julia's wisp of muslin was twisted round his neck.