But there
was some one there before them.
The accident had occurred near the middle of the ground, and opposite
the place where Miss Westonhaugh and her uncle had taken up their stand
to watch the contest. With a shake of the reins and a blow of the hand
that made the thoroughbred bound his length as he plunged into a gallop,
the girl rode wildly to where Isaacs lay, and reining the animal back on
his haunches, sprang to the ground and knelt quickly down, so that
before the others had reached them she had propped up his head and was
rubbing his hands in hers. There was no mistaking the impulse that
prompted her. She had seen many an accident in the hunting-field, and
knew well that when a man fell like that it was ten to one he was badly
hurt.
Isaacs was ghastly pale, and there was a little blood on Miss
Westonhaugh's white gauntlet. Her face was whiter even than his, though
not a quiver of mouth or eyelash betrayed emotion. The man who had done
it knelt on the other side, rubbing one of the hands. Kildare and
Westonhaugh galloped off at full speed, and presently returned bearing a
brandy-flask and a smelling-bottle, and followed by a groom with some
water in a native _lota_. I wanted to make him swallow some of the
liquor, but Miss Westonhaugh took the flask from my hands.
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