he beats me across the country
From Hislop to Motecombe Mere.
But say that should I chance to beat him
He must give back everything--all
Of what he has robbed you, father:
That's the message I send Sir Paul."

Two men watched that ride across country
At the break of an autumn day:
Young Hilton, the son of the Squire,
And I, sir. They started away
And came through the first field together,
Then leaped the first fence neck and neck;
On, on again, riding like mad, sir,
Jumping all without hinder or check.
In this, the last field 'fore the finish,
You could save half a minute or more
By leaping the stone wall and brooklet;
But never, sir, never before,
Had anyone ever attempted
That leap; it was madness, but, sir,
My young mistress knew that Delaunay
Was too great a coward and cur
To follow; and, what's more, she knew, sir,
That she _must_ be first in the race--
For the sake of the Hislop honour,
To win back the dear old Chase.

I looked at young Hilton beside me--
A finer lad never walked:
I don't think he thought as I knew, sir,
Their secret, for I'd never talked;
But I'd known for a long time, you see, sir,
As he and my lady Vi'
Had loved and would love for ever.
At last from his lips came a cry,
"Good God! she never will clear it!"
Then he turned his face to the ground;
While I--I looked on in terror,
Watched her, sir, taking that bound.
With a cold sweat bathing my forehead,
I saw her sweep onward, and gasped--
"For Heaven's sake, stop, Lady Vi'let!"
A laugh was her answer. She passed
On, on, like a shimmer of lightning,
And then came her last great leap--
The next, sir, I saw of my lady
Was a crushed and mangled