o of course knew him, called to
him to stop.

'What is it?' he asked, reining up.

'It be Squire Rowly's bays which have run away with him. Three on 'em,
all in a row and comin' like the wind. Squire he had his reins all
right, but they 'osses didn't seem to mind 'un. They was fair mad and
bolted. The leader he had got frightened at the heap o' stones theer,
an' the others took scare from him.'

Without a word Harold shook his reins and touched the horse with his
whip. The animal seemed to understand and sprang forward, covering the
ground at a terrific pace. Harold was not given to alarms, but here
might be serious danger. Three spirited horses in a light cart made for
pace, all bolting in fright, might end any moment in calamity. Never in
his life did he ride faster than on the road to Norling Parva. Far ahead
of him he could see at the turn, now and again, a figure running.
Something had happened. His heart grew cold: he knew as well as though
he had seen it, the high cart swaying on one wheel round the corner as
the maddened horses tore on their way; the one jerk too much, and the
momentary reaction in the crash! . . .

With beating heart and eyes aflame in his white face he dashed on.

It was all too true. By the side of the roadway on the inner curve lay
the cart on its side with broken shafts. The horses were prancing and
stamping about along the roadway not recovered from their fright. Each
was held by several men.

And on the grass two figures were still lying where they had been thrown
out. Rowly, who had of course been on the off-side, had been thrown
furthest. His head had struck the milestone that stood back on the waste
ground before the ditch. There was no need for any one to tell that his
neck had been broken. The way his head lay on one side, and the twisted,
inert limbs, all told their story plainly enough.

Squire Norman lay on his back stretched out. Some one had raised him to
a sitting posture and then lowered him again, straightening his limbs. He
did not therefore look so dreadful as Rowly, but there were signs of
coming death in the stertorous breathing, the ooze of blood from nostrils
and ears as well as mouth. Harold knelt down by him at once and examined
him. Those who were round all knew him and stood back. He felt the ribs
and limbs; so far as he could ascertain by touch no bone was broken.

Just then the local doctor, for whom some one had run, arrived in his