163 



such a sight seen, such a sound heard, at Melton Mow- 

 bray. 



Matuschevitz, anxious for his friend, was the first 

 over the barrier, and what a picture lay before him. 



" Thunderbolt" stood erect, covered with dust, 

 scratched skin-deep in many places, but otherwise un- 

 scathed, whinnying for his master. Fairfax sat on a 

 low bank, pale as death, with a thin stream of blood 

 trickling from his temple, and his right arm hanging, 

 with a ragged sleeve, limber by his side. But his 

 senses were about him, for he was smiling at Mary, who 

 knelt beside him, fanning him with her hat, while Bon- 

 nibelle, with reins and stirrup flying masterless, led 

 the chase far aloof. 



Jardinier and the beautiful bay. Merlin, lay, as they 

 had fallen, motionless, seemingly dead. 



" By heaven ! he has killed him. I thought so,'* 

 said Matuschevitz. "Fairfax, old fellow, how are 



you?" 



" Oh ! I shall do," replied the Virginian faintly. 

 "Look to them. They are far worse — I fear the 

 worst. I take you all to witness, it is his deed, not 

 mine. I must have done as I did, or died tamely. His 

 blown horse must have crushed me." 



"You did right, nobly, all that you could do," said 

 Beaufort, who had just come up, and then Mary Mor- 

 ton looked up into the Duke's face, smiled, burst into 

 tears, fainted. 



It was for a while confusion worse confounded. But 

 water was soon brought, and a surgeon was in the 

 field. 



Jardinier had fared better than he deserved. A 

 collar bone and six ribs broken, with a slight concus- 

 sion of the brain, rewarded his attempt at deliberate 

 murder. For it was scarce less than murder, and self- 

 murder. But the beautiful bay Merlin colt was dead 

 —the fii'st vertebra of the neck broken. 



