Всадник без головы

Chapter 97

           Itisnomerecuriositythatcauseshertwinbreaststosinkandswellinquickspasmodicbreathing.Inhereye,stillshowingsadness,thereisagleamoftriumphasitfollowsthepursuer—temperedwithmercy,asitfallsuponthepursued;whilefromherlips,slightlyparted,escapestheprayer:"Godhavemercyontheguiltyman!"

           ***

           Delayedalittleatmounting—andmoreinprocuringthelazo—MauriceGeraldistheverylatesttoleavetheground.Onclearingtheskirtofthecrowd,nowdispersedovertheparade,heseestheothersfarahead—adistanceofseveralhundredyardsseparatinghimfromtherearmost.

           Hethinksnothingofthis.Confidentinthequalitiesofhissteed,heknowshewillnotlongrideintherear.

           Andtheblood-bayanswershisexpectations.Asifjoyedatbeingrelievedfromhisinertload—tohimanincubusinexplicable—andinspiredbythepressureofhismaster’sknees,thenoblehorsespringsoffovertheprairieturf—inlongsinewystrides,showingthathisbodystillretainsitsstrength,andhislimbstheirelasticity.

           Hesoonclosesuponthehindmost;overtakesone;thenanother,andanother,tillhehassurgedfaraheadofthe"field."

           Stillon,overtherollingridges—acrossthestream-bedsbetween—on,oversoftturf,andsharpshingle,tillatlengthhiscompetitorslosesightofhim—astheyhavealreadydoneofthegreymustanganditsrider.

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