Why had he elected to come that way, she asked herself?
He almost seemed to be dogging her steps that day.
Impulse urged her to strike in another direction before he reached her.

She did not feel inclined for another _tete-a-tete_ with Nap Errol just then.
She tapped the grey smartly with her switch, more smartly than she intended, for he started and plunged.

At the same instant there broke out immediately below them a hubbub of yelling and baying that was like the shrieking of a hundred demons.

It rose up through the fog as from the mouth of an invisible pit, and drove the grey horse clean out of his senses.

He reared bolt upright in furious resistance to his rider's will, pawed the air wildly, and being brought down again by a sharp cut over the ears, flung out his heels in sheer malice and bolted down the hill, straight for that pandemonium of men and hounds.