.

.
It was all right.

We saw Jim suddenly reach over as the horses were going stride and stride; saw him lift Miss Falkland from her saddle as if she had been a child and place her before him; saw the brown horse prop, and swing round on his haunches in a way that showed he had not been called the crack 'cutting-out' horse on a big cattle run for nothing.

We saw Jim jump to the ground and lift the young lady down.

We saw only one horse.
Three minutes after Mr.Falkland overtook us, and we rode up together.
His face was white, and his dry lips couldn't find words at first.