amble. Forrester still leads,
riding patiently and well. He knows better than to force the running,
even with the difference in weight, for the going is too heavy quite to
suit his mare.

As Livingstone passed the spot where Miss Raymond was stationed, he
turned half round in his saddle, and looked curiously in her face. She
did not even know he was near. All her soul was in her eyes, that were
gazing after Forrester with an anxiety so disproportioned to the
occasion that her cousin fairly started.

"Poor child," he said to himself, all his angry feelings changing, "she
seems to have set her heart so upon winning, it would be sad if she were
disappointed. No one has much on it; shall I try 'Captain Armstrong' for
once? It would make her very happy. Bar accidents, I must win. They do
not know that the chestnut has not extended himself yet."

We lose sight of the horses for a little. When we see them a gain, the
mare has decidedly gained ground; and, to our astonishment, the Axeine
swerves, and refuses at rather an easy fence.

Miss Bellasys' cheek flushes this time. She goes off at a sharp canter
through a gate that takes her into a field where the horses must pass
her close; several of her attendants follow. Charley comes up, looking
rather more excited and happy than usual. He has made the pace better
for the last half mile, and still seems going at his ease. More than a
distance behind is the chestnut, evidently on bad terms with his jockey;
he is in a white lather of foam, and changes his leg twice as he
approaches. Guy has his face turned slightly aside as he nears the spot
where Miss Bellasys waits for him, in the midst of her body-guard. For
the first time since the race began, her voice was heard, cutting the
air with its clear mocking tones, like the edge of a Damascus sabre,
"The chestnut wins--hard held!"

Guy's kindly impulses vanished instantly before the sarcasm latent in
those last two words. He could sacrifice his own victory and the hopes
of his backers, but he would not give a chance to Flora's merciless
tongue. We saw him change his hold on the reins, and, with a shake and a
fierce thrust of the spurs, he set the Axeine fairly going.

Every man on the ground, including his late owner [who hated himself
bitterly at that moment for parting with him], was taken by surprise by
the extraordinary speed the horse displayed. He raced up to Bella Donna
just before the last fence, at which she hangs ever s