ridden. Limp and draggled, plastered with mud and foam, with a great
streaming gash on the shoulder, and head hanging down in utter
exhaustion, stood the grey.

"What's this?" demanded Sir Giles again. "Where's her ladyship?"

A shudder seemed to run through the assembled men. There was a moment's
silence. Then old Dimsdale, the butler, who was standing in the doorway
that led to the servants' quarters, stumped forward and made reply.

"The animal's come home alone, Sir Giles."

"What?" thundered his master.

The old man faced him with respectful firmness. No one had ever seen
Dimsdale agitated.

"As I said, Sir Giles," he answered, with a certain deferential
obstinacy. "The animal's come back alone."

"Only just come in, sir," chimed in a groom. "We was just beginning to
wonder when he came limping in in this state. Looks as if her ladyship
had met with a accident."

Sir Giles rounded upon him with a violence that brought his surmisings to
an abrupt end. Then, having worked off the first heat of his fury, he
turned again to Dimsdale.

"What the devil is to be done? I never saw her after the first kill."