The Welsh Linnet
Hay, Adam / Shutterstock, David Muscroft / Istockphoto, Da-Kuk
Stand or I fire.' I flattened myself against Fairy's neck and urged her into a gallop, praying I could lose them in the fog. I heard the crack of the carbine and a shot whistled by my ear. I galloped back towards Basing, branches whipping at my clothes and clods of earth flying up from Fairy's hooves. She was sweating heavily but her pace did not falter. Looming out of the fog I could make out the ramparts of the Old House, the dim outlines of...