Lady Godiva scarcely seemed to touch the ground with her hoofs. Her mane and tail gleamed golden as they streamed on the mild evening breeze. A pair of quails started up from amid the ripe corn. The mare rose on her hind legs for the jump, then made a sudden violent movement as though to avoid it. Behind the whitethorn yawned an abyss. But the impetus of her motion carried her on, and a firm grip kept her head forwards. Early next morning when the stone-breakers came to their work they found at the bottom of the precipice a dead woman and a dead horse. There were no external injuries either to the animal or her rider. The force of the fall must have killed them both. The terrified eyes of the mare were staring into vacancy, but those of the woman--indeed she was but a girl--were closed, and her small delicate hands still gripped the bridle firmly. The foreman sent a boy to inform the village-elder; the other workmen stood in a silent circle round the unfortunate pair. "Mates," said the foreman at last, "it's quite clear there is nothing to be done. We'd better be getting back to work." A lean, bearded man protested: "We might as well say a prayer first for the poor creature." For the stone-breakers are a pious people; they stand always with one foot in the grave. A loosened mass of chalk, a collapsing wall, a mine exploding prematurely, may threaten their lives; and the chalk-dust chokes their lungs so that they die early. The bearded man took off his hat and began to pray. All the others bared their heads. After the "deliver us from evil" he inserted another petition: "And grant to this poor lady, who has met with such a terrible and sudden death, Thy eternal rest, we beseech Thee, O Lord! For Thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory, for ever and ever. Amen." One only had gone back to his work, an aged man who, with trembling knees, was pushing a loaded wheelbarrow before him. He was himself too near death for the sight of a corpse to strike him as anything out of the common. When he saw the others praying he set down his burden. His toothless mouth stammered out his words with difficulty. "What are you praying for?" he said. "That the Lord will grant her eternal rest? Look at her, then! Isn't eternal rest written on her face?" Reimers reached the practice-camp again when his brother-officers were at mess. It was only on alighting from the carriage that he remembered Frommelt's commission. He was staggered a little at this neglect; but after all what did such trifles matter? He smiled to himself that he should trouble about it now. In his own room he threw himself upon the hard camp-bed. The bare place felt stifling, although the window was wide open. The white-washed walls seemed narrowing about him, and he felt as if he would be suffocated.