t was a trifle dangerous, what else could you expect at a hunt?
No sooner thought than done. Dreda deliberately slackened pace until
Hereward and Gurth had passed on ahead, then turned in at the opened
gate, and after a few minutes' painful wobbling to and fro found a deep
rut along which her wheels could make a fairly easy progress. The sound
of agitated puffings and pantings from behind made her aware that
another rider had been rash enough to follow her lead; but she dared not
turn her head to see who it might be. The road grew worse instead of
better, and the different ruts seemed to merge together in the most
annoying fashion. The bicycle bumped and strained, and only by the most
careful steering could be kept upright at all. She was a good and
fearless rider, but, to judge from the gasps and groans which sounded
from behind, her follower was not equally skilful, and Dreda began to
realise a fresh danger in her nearness. She determined to cross to the
far side of the road, chose what seemed to be the smoothest passage, and
swerved violently to the right. What exactly happened it would be
difficult to say, as it is always difficult to account for any accident
after the event. It was impossible to decide whether the second rider
was too close on Dreda's heels, and so volleyed into her at the first
sideways movement or whether Dreda's front wheel struck against a rut,
and in so doing blocked the way. The only thing that was certain was
that the two machines came violently into contact, and that their
respective riders were thrown headlong to the ground.

A moment of stunned surprise, and then Dreda sat up slowly; very red,
very angry, conscious of a sore elbow, a dusty skirt, and a hat screwed
rakishly to one side. She was convinced that she had not been to blame,
and that her downfall was absolutely and entirely the fault of that
stupid other person who had followed too quickly behind; but on the
point of declaiming reproaches, she was suddenly silenced by two
startling discoveries: first, that the other person was none other than
Norah West, and secondly, that she was lying very still, with her head
falling limply to one side.

Dreda felt a sudden chilling of the blood. Her heart pounded against
her side, and an inner voice cried in her ear: "Norah is dead! You were
saying horrid things about her an hour ago, and now she is dead. You
led the way along this dangerous path, and she followed and got killed