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Presently I heard shooting, and, looking back, perceived that my knight's men, hampered by the wounded servants and unable to leap the fence, were obliged to turn and fight. This kept back the pursuers and gave us a better chance of escape.

My cavalier drew rein and looked back across the meadow. Alas, four horsemen, having separated themselves from the others, had just leaped the fence and were galloping after us.

'Sultan, good horse!' cried my knight encouragingly, and his steed answered with a low whinny, and galloped along as before. 'Cling to me, madam. Hold tight!'

Again I clung to him convulsively, not venturing to speak about my fears for my poor servants and our own perilous position.

Another higher and thicker fence was leaped, not quite so successfully this time, for poor Sultan was just done and, floundering, caught his hoof in a long hawthorn branch. Down he fell upon his knees, and I saw stars and thick darkness.

When I came to myself, I found I was being carried in the strong arms of the good knight. I said nothing, for indeed what could I say? What he was doing for me that day I should never forget, never in all my life. But I could not speak of it.