The poor ruffler was fallen into meditation, and noted not that his nag did no more than amble.

He roused himself of a sudden when half-way down a gentle slope some five miles from Norwich, and out of temper at discovering the sluggishness of the pace, he again gave the horse a taste of the spurs.

The action was fatal.

The incline was become a bed of sodden clay, and he had not noticed with what misgivings his horse pursued the treacherous footing.

The sting of the spur made the animal bound forward, and the next instant a raucous oath broke from Crispin as the nag floundered and dropped on its knees.