under him; and the Lady
Elfgiva dropped her reins to press her hand where a thorn had scratched
her cheek.

"Stop!" she commanded. "Stop! We will turn back and wait--until he
strikes across a field."

As well have tried to call off the hounds after they had caught the
scent and doubled themselves over the trail! It is unlikely that any man
so much as heard her. For one flash of time she beheld them seesawing in
the air before her, as their horses rose over the brush; then there was
nothing but the distant crashing of dry timber and the echo of Canute's
jubilant horn.

"And the Valkyria has gone also!" the lady ejaculated, when her injured
gaze was able to come sufficiently close to earth.

And so the Valkyria had, though with as little of free will as on that
day when her runaway steed carried her out of the press of the fleeing
army. At the first call of the horn, Black Ymer had taken the bronze
bit between his teeth and followed, and his rider's one concern in life
became--not the guiding of him--but the staying on. Before they left the
first thicket her mantle was torn from her shoulders, and she was lying
along his neck, now on this side, now on that, to escape the whipping
twigs that lashed at her, threatening to cut out her eyes. From the
thicket out into the open, where it seemed as if the wind that rushed
against her would blow not only the clothes from her body but the flesh
from her bones!

Far ahead, where the little valley ended and the wood began again,
she caught a fleeting glimpse of the boar as it burst covert with the
yelping pack at its heels and was for one instant revealed, snarling,
bare-tusked, and flecked with bloody foam. Then it dived again under
cover and was gone in a new direction. Canute's horn sounded a recall,
and one by one the hunters checked their onward rush and wheeled.

Black Ymer's rider also tried to obey, but all the strength of her body
was not enough to sway him by a hair's breadth. On he shot into the
thicket.

"He will have enough sense to stop when he finds out that he is alone,"
was her despairing thought.

But he continued to forge ahead like a race horse,--in uneven leaps as
though some sound from behind were urging him on. Suddenly, through the
roaring of her ears, it broke upon her that he was not alone, that at
least one horse was following. Its approaching tread was like thunder in
the stillness. If it could but get ahead of her, all would be well.
Her heart