Cheraw chronicle. [volume] (Cheraw, S.C.) 1896-2005, 1921-12-15
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pletely mufied In lavish furs Of gray-brown rae
coon. His cutter shone In the sunlight and his
big, black horse was curried until he cleaned as
II he were oiled.
But why were they waiting? Why was Lady
Caire's face like a stricken flower, pale cheeks
despalring eyes that seemed to be seeking some
thing beyond the excited crowd, down the long
frosty road2 nstnctively the hushed crowd fol-
lowed Claire's glance. 1nstinctively they, too
looked and wished for the absent Philippe Beau
clerc.
Then there swept around the corner and up to
the astonished crowd, the most curious equpage
that their eyes had ever beheld. Philippe Beau
clerc, looking like some glorious savage clad In
shaggy black buffalo robes held taut the home
made reins Of bison hide that guided curious
pony. he was small and shaggy and spotted like
quail His neck was long and his head was lean
His hind legs seemed shorter than his fore legs
Beside the well-groomed horses Of the other con-
testants he was grotesque parody The cutter
was rudely wrought Of ironwoOd But the drivers
face was serene and eager. He glanced toward
Claire. Their look held. Claire smiled. Then
they were off on the signal of the Segneur.
The crowd loosed its pent-up laughter cs they
saw Beauclerc's lean, dappled beast fall behind
pace by pace. The other ponies were skimming
on like swallows In the wind. But leading them
all was old Va-de-bon-Coeurs black stallion. There
was sympathetic shudder for Claire. But she,
seeming not to mind. was smiling like dainty
witch.
va-de-bon-Coeur's black stallion was the first to
dash up to the blasted oak. He was fecked with
foam His quivering fanks were streaked with
the lashes Of the old mans whip 1t was plain
he was we'll spent but his driver allowed him not
q moments respite. on they sped again. Then
two soldiers came galloping In neck to neck. The
others followed in quick succession.
Close on the heels Of the last sleigh came Beau
clerc his sinewy little pony as stout and fresh as
when he first set out, his reins still drawn taut.
He wheeled about defty, then loosened the leather
ribbons. The ugly pony stretched out his long,
thin neck and leaped forward.
He gained on the last horse, passed him. Sailed
by the second, the third passed the rest Of them,
was neck and neck with the leader, Va-debon-
Occurs painting black stallion. Farther and far
ther he stretched out his hoofs till he dashed by
the leader.
On the bank the eager crowd craned their necks.
Their eyes opened with incredulity when In the
flying shape that was dashng toward them they
recognized Beauclerc and his uncouth speckled
nag. OF in the distance, far behind him, struggled
his vanQushed rivals. Instinctively the onlookers
glanced toward Claire and, though she was hiding
her rosy cheeks behind a great muf, they could
see that her eyes glowed with the light that was
never land or sea.
The spectators surged up about the victors
sleigh There was torrent Of welcoming cheers
for the tall dark hero But he had ears for their
acclamations. He was running to the little knoll
where Claire stood beside her father, who In spite
of himself was looking rather relieved and joyous.
They watched Claire as she put out her hands to
the good looking but breathless youth who In
closed them In his own 30 eagerly. They watched
him bend above them with grace of a cavalier. And
-ol,t,,
"Sacre where did you get that wind-shod demon p
Philippe Beaucerc's answer came back, laugh
Ing "Oh, that's old Menetepah's Indian pony. I've
been training him for weeks In the forest