SCENE AT A BEOOK. 57 



as they advance. The gallop is observed gradually to 

 faint into a canter, which, as they approach the water, 

 gets slower and slower, until souse ! souse ! souse ! they 

 one after the other blunder into it. 



While a horse here is swimming, and there is struggling, 

 and while a human head with handsome aristocratic fea- 

 tures and black lank hair looking like that of Don Quixote 

 when drenched with curds and whey, is seen rising in 

 agony from below, two little thick-set, short- thighed men 

 in scarlet, who throughout the run had been shirking 

 many a small fence, cross the brook with terrific courage. 

 That thoroughbred-mare, which has been clearing every- 

 thing, swerves, while the ugly brute in her wake bucks 

 over what she had refused as if he enjoyed the fun, which 

 he really does. See ! at what a tremendous pace this 

 splendid-looking bay horse is galloping towards his doom. 

 Both spurs are in his sides ; the slight waving movement 

 of the arms and shoulders of his fearless rider, and the 

 firm grip of his hands, as he draws upon first one side 

 of the bit and then the other, appear altogether to insure 

 success. As soon, however, as the well-known rogue gets 

 sight of the glare of the water, though his head is in 

 such a vice that it is out of his power to swerve, and 

 though his pace is such that it is utterly impossible for 

 him to stop, yet, as if all his four legs were suddenly 

 paralysed by fear, the high-bred sinner, all of a sudden, 

 refuses to lift them, and accordingly, for thirty or forty 



