I had scarcely taken my arm inside the chaise when Aspen stopped, turned his head, and looked at us with glazed eyes; flakes of foam flew from his mouth over his mane.

The flesh on his back contracted and quivered.

I thought he was frightened by the chaise-top, and looked at Charles in terror.
"He has some disorder," he cried.

"Oh, Cassandra! My God!" He tried to spring at his head, but was too late, for the horse was leaping madly.

He fell back on his seat.
"If he will keep the road," he muttered.
I could not move my eyes from him.