Then his face flushed as he remembered how Mark Eden had galloped after him.

Would it be he, and if so, now they were going to meet again, would it be upon inimical terms, and with drawn swords?
His heart began to beat faster, and the next minute it was beating faster still, for he caught sight, at a curve of the track, of the pony and its burden, not Mark Eden, but a lady; and then his heart seemed to stand still in his horror at seeing that she had lost control of the spirited little animal, which was tearing along as hard as he could go.
The next minute it was nearly abreast of Ralph, who, without thinking of the consequences of such an act, leaped at the rein, caught it, and was dragged along some twenty yards, before, snorting and trembling, the little animal, which he knew as Mark Eden's, stopped short, and began to rear.
"Quick!" shouted the lad.

"I can't hold him: try and slip off." His words were heard by the frightened rider, but there was little need to tell her to slip off, for the pony reared again, nearly upright, the rider glided from the saddle over the animal's haunches, and fell amongst the bushes by the track, while Ralph was dragged onward again.
It all occurred in a few moments, the pony stopped, reared again, made another bound, dropped off the track, and, as Ralph loosed his hold, rolled over and over down the steep slope right into the river with a tremendous splash, which cooled it on the instant; and it regained its feet, scrambled actively ashore, gave itself a shake, and then began to graze, as if nothing was the matter.
"Mark Eden's sister," thought Ralph, as he hurriedly climbed back to the track, where, looking wild and scared, Mary Eden had just regained her feet, and was standing trembling.
"Are you hurt ?" he cried aloud.
"Yes, dreadfully.

No: I don't think so.

Only scratched," she replied, half-crying.