D'ye hear'; for the man of the ragged beard was jerking the near leader's bit and putting the mettlesome animal on its haunches.
'Damn you! Let go.' He leaned forward to strike at Steadbolt with his riding whip, but the lash had caught round the pole-bar of the buggy, and he could not extricate it.

Bridget tried to help him.

He turned to her for an instant, a soft gleam of tenderness shining through the steely anger on his face.
'No.

Keep still, my dear.

Don't be frightened.' 'I frightened!' She gave a little laugh.