That Hideous Strength

III

“Oughtn’t we to be nearly at the gate we climbed over?” said Dimble.

It was a good deal lighter now that the rain had stopped, but the wind had risen and was roaring about them so that only shouted remarks could be heard. The branches of the hedge beside which they were tramping swayed and dipped and rose again so that they looked as if they were lashing the bright stars.

“It’s a good deal longer than I remembered,” said Denniston.

“But not so muddy,” said Jane.

“You’re right,” said Denniston, suddenly stopping.

“It’s all stony. It wasn’t like this at all on the way up. We’re in the wrong field.”

“I think,” said Dimble mildly, “we must be right. We turned half left along this hedge as soon as we came out of the trees, and I’m sure I remember-”

“But did we come out of the copse on the right side?” said Denniston.

“If we once start changing course,” said Dimble, “we shall go round and round in circles all night. Let’s keep straight on. We’re bound to come to the road in the end.

“Hullo!” said Jane sharply. “What’s this?” All listened. Because of the wind, the unidentified rhythmic noise which they were straining to hear seemed quite distant at one moment, and then, next moment, with shouts of “Look out!” “Go away you great brute! “-“Get back “-and the like, all were shrinking back into the hedge as the plosh-plosh of a horse cantering on soft ground passed close beside them. A cold gobbet of mud flung up from its hoofs struck Denniston in the face.

“Oh, look! Look!” cried Jane. “Stop him. Quick!”

“Stop him?” said Denniston who was trying to clean his face. “What on earth for? The less I see of that great clod-hopping quadruped, the better.”

“Oh, shout out to him, Dr. Dimble,” said Jane, in an agony of impatience. “Come on. Run! Didn’t you see?”

“See what?” panted Dimble, as the whole party, under the influence of Jane’s urgency, began running in the direction of the retreating horse.

“There’s a man on his back,” gasped Jane. She was tired and out of breath and had lost a shoe.

“A man?” said Denniston: and then, “By God, sir, Jane’s right. Look, look there! Against the sky . . . to your left.”

“We can’t overtake him,” said Dimble.

“Hi! Stop! Come back! Friends-amici-amici “bawled Denniston.

Dimble was not able to shout for the moment. He was an old man, who had been tired before they set out, and now his heart and lungs were doing things to him of which his doctor had told him the meaning some years ago. He was not frightened, but he could not shout with a great voice (least of all in the Old Solar language) until he had breathed. And while he stood trying to fill his lungs all the others suddenly cried “Look” yet again: for high among the stars, looking unnaturally large and many legged, the shape of the horse appeared as it leaped a hedge some twenty yards away, and on its back, with some streaming garment blown far out behind him in the wind, the great figure of a man. It seemed to Jane that he was looking back over his shoulder as though he mocked. Then came a splash and thud as the horse alighted on the far side; and then nothing but wind and starlight again.