First it neighed, then with a desperate effort it struggled to its feet and trotted after her for a hundred yards or so, only to fall down again at last.

Jess turned and saw it, and, exhausted as she was, she positively ran to get away from the look in those big eyes.

That night there was a cold rain, in which the horse perished, as "poor" horses are apt to do.
It was nearly dark when at length Jess reached the top of the hill and looked down.

She knew the spot well, and from it she could always see the light in the kitchen window of the house.

To-night there was no light.