Anna Karenina - LimpidSoft

PART TWO CHAPTER 25
he would come in first. He was flying towards the Irish barricade, Frou-Frou and
he both together saw the barricade in the distance, and both the man and the mare
had a moment’s hesitation. He saw the uncertainty in the mare’s ears and lifted the
whip, but at the same time felt that his fears were groundless; the mare knew what
was wanted. She quickened her pace and rose smoothly, just as he had fancied she
would, and as she left the ground gave herself up to the force of her rush, which
carried her far beyond the ditch; and with the same rhythm, without effort, with the
same leg forward, Frou-Frou fell back into her pace again.
“Bravo, Vronsky!” he heard shouts from a knot of men–he knew they were his
friends in the regiment–who were standing at the obstacle. He could not fail to
recognize Yashvin’s voice though he did not see him.
“O my sweet!” he said inwardly to Frou-Frou, as he listened for what was happening
behind. “He’s cleared it!” he thought, catching the thud of Gladiator’s hoofs
behind him. There remained only the last ditch, filled with water and five feet wide.
Vronsky did not even look at it, but anxious to get in a long way first began sawing
away at the reins, lifting the mare’s head and letting it go in time with her paces. He
felt that the mare was at her very last reserve of strength; not her neck and shoulders
merely were wet, but the sweat was standing in drops on her mane, her head, her
sharp ears, and her breath came in short, sharp gasps. But he knew that she had
strength left more than enough for the remaining five hundred yards. It was only
from feeling himself nearer the ground and from the peculiar smoothness of his motion
that Vronsky knew how greatly the mare had quickened her pace. She flew over
the ditch as though not noticing it. She flew over it like a bird; but at the same instant
Vronsky, to his horror, felt that he had failed to keep up with the mare’s pace, that
he had, he did not know how, made a fearful, unpardonable mistake, in recovering
his seat in the saddle. All at once his position had shifted and he knew that something
awful had happened. He could not yet make out what had happened, when
the white legs of a chestnut horse flashed by close to him, and Mahotin passed at
a swift gallop. Vronsky was touching the ground with one foot, and his mare was
sinking on that foot. He just had time to free his leg when she fell on one side, gasping
painfully, and, making vain efforts to rise with her delicate, soaking neck, she
fluttered on the ground at his feet like a shot bird. The clumsy movement made by
Vronsky had broken her back. But that he only knew much later. At that moment
he knew only that Mahotin had flown swiftly by, while he stood staggering alone
on the muddy, motionless ground, and Frou-Frou lay gasping before him, bending
her head back and gazing at him with her exquisite eyes. Still unable to realize what
had happened, Vronsky tugged at his mare’s reins. Again she struggled all over
like a fish, and her shoulders setting the saddle heaving, she rose on her front legs
but unable to lift her back, she quivered all over and again fell on her side. With a
face hideous with passion, his lower jaw trembling, and his cheeks white, Vronsky
kicked her with his heel in the stomach and again fell to tugging at the rein. She did
not stir, but thrusting her nose into the ground, she simply gazed at her master with
her speaking eyes.
“A–a–a!” groaned Vronsky, clutching at his head. “Ah! what have I done!” he
cried. “The race lost! And my fault! shameful, unpardonable! And the poor darling,
ruined mare! Ah! what have I done!”
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