ted a point, by
crossing at which he could contrive to cut off a corner, and thus gain
upon me considerably. In order to accomplish this it was necessary for
him to take his leap at a spot where the brook was some feet wider than
ordinary. Relying, however, on the known good qualities of the animal he
rode, he resolved to attempt it. Settling himself firmly in his saddle,
he got his horse well together, and then throwing up his whip-hand and
(as Lawless ~186~~would have termed it) "sticking in the persuaders," he
charged the brook at speed.

It was a well-imagined and bold attempt, and, had his horse been
fresher, would have succeeded in winning the race; but we had kept up
a fair pace during the whole of our ride, and now our gallop across the
common, and more particularly the severe pace over the marshy ground,
had tried his horse's wind considerably. Still, however, the noble
animal strove to the utmost of its power to answer the call made upon
it, and by a vigorous effort succeeded in clearing the brook; but
the ground on the other side was rugged and broken, and, apparently
exhausted by the exertion he had made, he stumbled, and after a slight
struggle to preserve his footing fell heavily forward, pitching Harry
over his head as he did so.

Fortunately the ground was soft and clayey, and neither man nor horse
seemed to have sustained any injury, for I had scarcely time to draw
rein ere they were on their legs again, and, as Harry's first act was to
spring lightly into the saddle, I determined to secure the race at once;
and cantering up to the poplar tree, which was now within a hundred
yards of me, I snapped off a bough in token of victory. As I turned back
again I observed that Harry had dismounted and was examining his horse's
foot.

"Nothing wrong, is there?" asked I, as I rejoined him.

"Yes, everything's wrong," was the reply; "you've been and gone and won
the race, you villain you--I've tumbled nose and knees into a mud-hole,
and spoiled my white cord oh-no-we-never-mention-ums--and 'the Cid' has
wrenched off one of his front shoes in the scrimmage."

"And that's the worst of all the misfortunes," said I, "for here we are
some ten or twelve miles from Cambridge at least, in a region utterly
unknown, and apparently devoid of inhabitants; so where we are to find a
smith passes my poor skill to discover."

"You're wrong about the inhabitants, I flatter myself," replied Harry.
"Do you see the faint white