Lady Anne was a good rider and managed to keep her seat as Lizzie took off down the road.
But I could see that it wouldn't be easy for her to regain control.
And an out-of-control horse is very dangerous.
I let out several loud, shrill neighs, pawing the ground anxiously.
A few seconds later, Blantyre came racing back down the path.
"Oh no!" he exclaimed as he saw Lizzie galloping off with Anne.
He flung the reins over my head and scrambled into the saddle.
As soon as his feet were in the stirrups, I burst into a gallop.
Blantyre gave me a free rein, seeing that I knew what to do.
We raced after the runaways. For the first mile, we barely kept them in view.
I was galloping as fast as I could, but Lizzie was even faster.
Then the road curved to the right, and we lost sight of them.
By the time we reached the curve, Lizzie had disappeared.
The road split just ahead, and I wasn't sure which way to go.
There was a woman standing at her garden gate.
"To the right!" she called when she saw us.
"Thanks!" Blantyre called back.
We galloped on. For a while we barely caught sight of Lizzie.
Luckily, after we'd lost them yet again, a road worker waved us down.
"They turned that way, sir!" the worker called to Blantyre, pointing to an open area with lots of weeds and holes.
It was the worst possible place for a gallop.
When Lady Anne rode me there, we never went faster than a walk.
We soon caught sight of Lizzie again.
Lady Anne was still in the saddle, but she was swaying back and forth now, looking exhausted.
I could see that she was pulling on the reins, but it wasn't doing any good.
Lizzie was still going, though the roughness of the ground had forced her to slow from a gallop to a canter.
That meant I had a chance to catch her. I surged forward.
Blantyre had let me choose my own way while we were on the road, but now he took over again.
With a light hand and a quick eye, he guided me expertly over the tricky ground.
I barely had to slow down. We started to gain on Lizzie.
About halfway across the open area was a wide ditch.
I thought it might make Lizzie stop at last.
Instead she leaped awkwardly across, stumbling on the rough ground on the far side.
Lady Anne was flung to the ground and lay still.
Blantyre groaned. "Now, Black Auster, do your best!" he urged me.
I cleared the ditch with a strong leap, landing safely.
Blantyre pulled me to a stop and leaped down.
He ran to Lady Anne's side while I stood there, my sides heaving after the long gallop.
Two men had been trimming weeds nearby.
One was already chasing Lizzie, who had slowed down after losing her rider.
The other ran toward us.
"Oh no!" he said when he saw Lady Anne lying there still and pale.
"How can I help?"
"Can you ride?" Blantyre asked.
"Not very well," the man said. "But I'll give it a try for Lady Anne's sake.
She's always been so kind to my family."
"Don't worry, this horse will take care of you," Blantyre said, gesturing to me.
"Ride quickly to the doctor's house, then go to Earlshall and let them know what's happened."
The man agreed and mounted.
He wasn't a very good rider, but I didn't mind.
We hurried to the doctor's house, and then back to Earlshall Park.
A groom returned me to the stable while another quickly saddled Ginger for Lady Anne's brother and the others prepared the carriage.
It seemed to take a long time before anyone returned.
At last Ginger arrived back at the stable.
"We galloped almost all the way there," she told me.
"Lady Anne still wasn't moving.
But the doctor was tending to her, and I heard him say she wasn't dead.
Later I heard someone else say that she was lucky she hadn't broken any bones.
So I expect she'll be all right."
The next day Blantyre came to see me.
"You're the finest horse I know, Black Auster," he said as he patted me fondly.
"You seemed to understand the danger as well as I did.
Thanks to your speed and heart, Anne will be fine in a week or two.
And from now on, I'm sure she won't ever want to ride any other horse but you."