Ulick was not afraid, but he had no desire to break his neck, and that was probably what Warren would do if the grey failed to top the wall.

There was no chance of stopping him, and Ulick determined to see the result of the dare-devil leap.

"He's mad to attempt it!" he said. "The horse is a good one, but he'll never get over it. I would not risk it on Random for a fortune!"

There was no one else near; the four or five hors.e.m.e.n had skirted round the wall, and were riding hard after the hounds, who had by this time cleared the churchyard.

Ulick waited for Warren's rash leap, and his heart almost stopped beating in his intense anxiety to see him safely over.

The presentiment of the morning flashed across his mind, and he wondered if this was to be the result.

Warren knew what lay before him; but his blood was up, and so was the grey's. The horse p.r.i.c.ked his ears as he saw the formidable obstacle in front of him, but he did not shirk his work. On the contrary, he regulated his stride, and prepared for the desperate leap.

As Warren drew near to the wall Ulick rode forward, in order to render a.s.sistance should it be required, for he feared the result, and wished to do all in his power to help him.

Up the incline galloped the grey. Had the wall stood on the level he might have jumped it, although that was doubtful. The horse took off well, rose at the wall, and would have cleared it safely but for the fact that a huge raised gravestone, over a vault in the churchyard, stood close beneath it.

The horse saw it, tried to avoid it as he leaped, caught his hind legs on the wall, fell heavily forward, and threw Warren with terrific force head first on to the slab.

Ulick heard the crash and shuddered. Horse and rider failed to rise. He rode quickly to the spot, flung Random's bridle over a big coping stone, and scrambled over the wall, almost falling over the horse as he landed on the other side. He merely cast a rapid glance at the grey, and saw he was fatally injured, and rushed forward to Warren Courtly, who lay stretched out on the top of the slab where he had fallen.

Ulick stooped over him, and said, in an agitated voice--

"Warren! Warren! are you alive? Speak to me!"

There was no answer, no movement in the body, which lay dangerously still and inanimate.

Ulick tore open his vest and collar, and lifted him up. As he did so the head fell back, resting on his chest, and for a moment the eyes opened with the shock, but quickly closed again.

Ulick shuddered. That limp movement of the head, he knew what it meant.

There was no hope. Warren's neck was broken. He had pitched on to his head, and the fall was bound to be fatal. He supported the dead man for a considerable time, hoping against hope that he would show some sign of life. His thoughts wandered to Irene, and he wondered how she would bear the shock. He must break it to her as gently as possible. She must hear it from no one but himself. He was of no use here. Warren was beyond human aid. He laid the body gently down, and covered the face with a handkerchief; it looked weird and uncanny, resting there in the scarlet coat on the top of a vault, in the picturesque old churchyard.

Getting over the wall, he remounted Random and rode away for a.s.sistance.

There was no one in sight. Then he espied two figures in the distance walking towards him; one was his father, the other Irene. They saw him, and his father waved his stick. There was no excuse; he had to pull up and meet them.

He was bewildered, at a loss what to do, what to say; and as he thought of Warren lying still in the churchyard he shuddered, and was almost tempted to make a bolt.

"You are not often out of the hunt," said the Squire. "Irene let the cat out of the bag, and told me you were here, and that Eli had borrowed Random for you. I am glad to see you out with the hounds again, but you ought to have come to breakfast."

"Have you had a fall, or missed the hounds?" asked Irene. "I am afraid I have taught Random bad manners. Have you seen Warren?"

He made no answer, but looked vacantly before him, and she said, anxiously, as she noticed the green moss from the stone on his coat--

"Have you hurt yourself? You look as though you have had a fall."

"I have not had a fall," he said, in a voice strangely unlike his own.

The Squire was quick at reading faces, and knew something had happened.

Did it concern Irene? Had Warren been injured? He took her by the arm and said--

"Come, let us go home; and, as Ulick has missed the hounds, he can come with us."

Irene hesitated. She felt Ulick was concealing something, either from her or his father. What was it? Had anything happened to her husband?

She stepped forward before he dismounted, placing her hand on Random's neck, and, looking up into his face, said, quickly--

"Something has happened; I can see it in your face. There has been an accident. Is it Warren?"

He avoided her gaze. How could he tell her, and the churchyard where he lay quite close by?

The Squire saw there was serious news, and said, as cheerfully as possible--

"Has Warren had a spill? I hope it is not serious."

"Yes, he had a bad fall. I have just left him. I was riding for a.s.sistance when I met you."

Irene turned white, and the Squire supported her.

"Where is he?" she said. "Let me go to him."

Ulick dismounted and said--

"You must be brave, Irene! Warren has had a very bad fall."

"Where is he?" she asked again.

"He attempted to leap the churchyard wall and follow the hounds. It is a dangerous jump, and the horse fell, throwing him heavily."

"Then why do you delay? Ride for a.s.sistance at once! We will go to him,"

she said, and started off at a rapid pace in the direction of Glen church.

This was Ulick's opportunity. He stepped up to his father, and said--

"Do what you can to comfort her. He's in the churchyard, lying on Harewood's vault. I am better away."

"He is not----?" asked the Squire, and paused.

Ulick nodded. "He fell on his head on the slab and broke his neck. Now go after her."

"Call out to her to stop; I can hardly limp along," said the Squire.

"Irene!" called Ulick.

She turned round, and he pointed to his father.

She came hurriedly back, and said--

"Take my arm--we will go together."