I wanted to leap out and shout for them to stop, but by the time I had plucked up my courage, they had vanished into the mist again. The crowd fell silent. You could feel the anticipation. Then out of the mist came two figures—Monty and Darcy, still running neck and neck. As they reached the finish line Darcy seemed to slack off or Monty put on a surge and he crossed the tape first.

I made my way through the crowd to Darcy. “Well done, old thing,” I said.

He leaned on me, gasping for breath. “I wouldn’t want to do that again. These stupid saddles are heavy and the stirrups kept flying up and hitting me.”

“But you came second. That was wonderful.”

He looked up with a grin. “Well, I thought it was wiser that Monty should win. It is his home territory, after all. Only right that the locals should be able to cheer their landowners.”

I stared at him and had to smile. “Darcy, you’re a snob at heart after all, aren’t you?”

“Well, I am going to be Lord Kilhenny someday. I have to get used to the idea.”

I kissed his freezing cheek. “I’m very proud of you anyway.”

There were renewed cheers as the other runners staggered in, one by one. I found that I was breathing easier. The race was over and nothing had happened. Then somebody said, “Where’s old Johnnie?”

“Johnnie Protheroe?” another of the runners said. “He was with me last time I looked. Didn’t he come in yet?”

The feeling of doom returned. Several people started back along the course.

“Knowing Johnnie, he probably decided he’d had enough and he’s nipped across to the pub,” someone chuckled.

We passed one jump, then a second and a third. Then someone said, “My God—what’s that?”

One of the ridiculous helmets was lying to one side of the track. And there was Johnnie lying half concealed under the hedge that bordered the field. Hands dragged him out. Someone said, “He’s fainted. Get some brandy.”

Then someone else said, “He hasn’t fainted. He’s dead.”

“Someone run and get Dr. Wainwright. He’s over by the tent.”

A couple of younger lads ran off. I stood staring down at Johnnie’s dead face. He looked so normal, so peaceful, that I expected him to open his eyes at any moment and say, “Fooled you all, didn’t I?”