Seila can stay, there is no doubt about that." A roar of satisfaction rose from the mass of natives on the other side of the inclosure as Mameluke was seen to leave the group of horses and gradually to gain upon Seila.
"Oh, he will catch him, uncle!" Isobel said, tearing her handkerchief in her excitement.
The Major was watching the horses through his field glass.
"Never mind his catching him," he said; "Prothero is riding quietly and steadily.

Seila is doing nearly her best, but he is not hurrying her, while the fool on Mameluke is bustling the horse as if he had only a hundred yards further to go." The horses were nearing the point at which they had started, when a shout from the crowd proclaimed that the blue jacket had come up to and passed the scarlet.

Slowly it forged ahead until it was two lengths in advance, for a few strides their relative positions remained unaltered, then there was a shout from the carriages; scarlet was coming up again.
Mameluke's rider glanced over his shoulder, and began to use the whip.
For a few strides the horse widened the gap again, but Prothero still sat quiet and unmoved.

Just as they reached the end of the line of carriages, Seila again began to close up.
"Seila wins! Seila wins!" the officers shouted.
But it seemed to Isobel that this was well nigh impossible, but foot by foot the mare came up, and as they passed the Hunters' carriage her head was in advance.
In spite of the desperate efforts of the rider of Mameluke, another hundred yards and they passed the winning post, Seila a length ahead..