“The horses are here,” whispered Olive. “I will go round and bring out Queen Katharine; there is only a wooden bolt on the outside to fasten the door. You had better not go near them for fear of exciting them, which might make the dog bark.”
“It is dangerous for you in the dark. I fear the horses may hurt you,” said Cotterell, slow in bringing himself to give up the little hand he had held all during that strange night walk.
“I am not afraid of the horses: they know me and I know them,” said Olive.
Cotterell heard her talking softly to Queen Katharine as she quietly undid her halter and brought her out of the stable. Not a creature seemed awake in the house, and not a word was spoken by the two as they stole past down to the bars. Once out of earshot, Cotterell sprang upon Queen Katharine and stooping down lifted Olive up before him. She never could quite remember the wild things he said as he rode back to their house, holding her in his arms on the horse. She was dizzy, frightened, and confused, so perhaps he did not say all those wild words, and perhaps she dreamed them. He got Ezra’s saddle and put it on Queen Katharine, Olive did not forget to give him the parcel of food and a flask of milk and water, and then he said good-bye. Such a strange good-bye. He knelt before her, clasped her two hands in his own, and said: “Now I know why men have worshipped the image of pure womanhood. It made them better. I shall be made a better man by my worship.” And then he was gone without another word, and Olive crept into the house just as the first grey streaks of dawn appeared.
CHAPTER XVII.
A LIFE AT STAKE.
When Brother Wright early next morning discovered the loss of the brown mare, he was thrown into a state of the most unphilosophic rage. He had not a moment’s doubt as to what had happened, nor a moment’s hesitation as to the course he should pursue. He hurried back to the house and without any effort at concealment got out his revolver and stuck it into his belt.
“Wright,” said Mary, his wife, “whatever have you got there?” She was filled with amazement.
“A pistol,” replied he with firmness.
“What are you going to do with it?”
“Shoot a damned horse-thief, who has been and broken into the stable and stolen Queen Katharine.”