And with a simultaneous effort difficult for both, they assumed a more cheerful air, and briskly entered the house.
It was not until they were well upon the road back that Reuther ventured to speak of Oliver. She was riding as far from the edge of the precipice as possible. In descent it looked very formidable to her unaccustomed eye.
"This is a dangerous road for a man to ride bareback," she remarked. "I'm terrified when I think of it, Mr. Black. Why did he go off quite so suddenly? Is there a train he is anxious to reach? Mr. Sloan, is there a train?"
"Yes, Miss, there is a train."
"Which he can get by riding fast?"
"I've known it done!"
"Then he is excusable." Yet her anxious glance stole ever and again to the dizzy verge towards which she now unconsciously urged her own horse till Mr. Black drew her aside.
"There is nothing to fear in that direction," said he. "Oliver's horse is to be trusted, if not himself. Cheer up, little one, we'll soon be on more level ground and then for a quick ride and a speedy end to this suspense."
He was rewarded by a confiding look, after which they all fell silent.
A half-hour's further descent, then a quick turn and Mr. Sloan, who had ridden on before them, came galloping hastily back.