Something in her eye showed all of them, including Blair, that it was useless to protest. Her husband swung her into the saddle, and she gathered up the reins in her trembling hands. Meanwhile her eye fell upon Lewis, standing by Sylvia Shapleigh, his eyes still full of tears. “Please forgive me, Mrs. Blair,” he said. “There is nothing to forgive,” she answered, feeling, in the midst of her own distress, the acutest sympathy for the lad; “it was purely an accident. I hope you will come to see Hilary.” Lewis thanked her, with tears in his voice as well as his eyes. Mr. and Mrs. Blair rode off the field together. People gave them all the room they wanted, for they were encompassed with the dignity of misfortune. They did not take the main road, which was full of people in gigs and chaises and carriages and on horseback, all talking about the Blairs’ affairs and Skelton and everything connected with them. They took a private road through the woods that led to the Newington lane. Mrs. Blair did not know whether Alabaster were dead or alive. “What has become of the horse?” she asked presently. “Shot,” replied Blair briefly. Mrs. Blair looked at him intently, to see what effect this had on him, but strangely enough his face wore a look of relief, and his eyes had lost the hunted expression they had worn for months. “But I thought you loved that horse so--so superstitiously.” “So I did. It was a madness. But it is past. I am a free man now. If the horse had lived and had won the race, sometimes--sometimes I doubted if I could have kept my word. But it is easy enough now. We are ruined, Elizabeth; that’s what running away with Jack Blair has brought you to, but after this you can never reproach me again with racing. It has been your only rival; and I tell you, my girl, it is you that has made Skelton and me hate each other so.” What woman could be insensible to the subtile flattery contained in such language at such a time? Elizabeth at that instant forgave Blair every anxiety he had made her suffer during all their married life, and professed a perfect willingness to run away with him again under the same circumstances. One thing was certain, she could believe what Blair told her; he never lied to her in his life, and his word was as dear to him as his soul. CHAPTER XV. Lewis Pryor was in the greatest distress over the result of the match, and in riding back to Deerchase, by Skelton’s side, he was the most doleful boy that ever was seen. Skelton was in a violent fury over the treatment accorded the boy, and felt like marrying Sylvia Shapleigh out of hand and establishing her at Deerchase for the purpose of spiting the other women in the county. Next morning Lewis asked Bulstrode if he might ride over to Newington to inquire after Hilary and Mrs. Blair. “Deuced if I know,” answered Bulstrode. “I haven’t the least objection; but you’d better ask Mr. Skelton.”