Vavasor had also crossed the road somewhat to the left, carrying with him one or two who knew that he was a safe man to follow.

Maxwell had been ignominiously turned by the hedge, which, together with its ditch, formed a fence such as all men do not love at the beginning of a run.

He had turned from it, acknowledging the cause.

"By George!" said he, "that's too big for me yet awhile; and there's no end of a river at the bottom." So he had followed the master down the road.
All those whom we have named managed to get over the brook, Pollock's horse barely contriving to get up his hind legs from the broken edge of the bank.

Some nags refused it, and their riders thus lost all their chance of sport for that day.