"I dare say he is not used to being ridden mainly—or was it wholly?—on the curb."
He grinned. "Well, and I'm not used to riding, and that's a fact. But"—he leered the compliment—"there are few dangers I would not brave for a glance from Miss Josselin."
"You flatter me, sir. But I believe you braved a worse, yesterday, without claiming that reward."
"Ah! You mean that Sir Oliver will be angry when he gets wind of our little expedition? The ladies persuaded me—Adam's old excuse; I can deny nothing to the sex. . . . But what have we yonder? A race?"
"It would appear so."
"A very hollow one, if I may criticise. That youngster moves like a deer. . . . And what is his reward to be?—another glance of these bright eyes? Ah, Miss Josselin, you make fools—and heroes—of us all!"
Ruth turned from him to applaud young Lemuel, who came darting into the enclosure.
"See old Jonathan!" panted the boy, looking back and laughing. "That's how they ran at Louisbourg. . . . Miss Josselin, you should have made it a mile and I'd have shown you some broken-winded ones." He laughed again and turned in apology to Mr. Silk. "I'll take your horse to stable, sir, if you'll let me catch my breath."
The others came straggling up, a little abashed at sight of the stranger, but not surprised out of their good manners.
"A clergyman?" said Jonathan. "My father will be home before sundown, sir. He will be proud if you can stay and have dinner with us."