Decidedly, it appeared that he would not. Blue Bonnet breathed a little easier. If he would not let her mount, she could not be to blame—not even in her own eyes.
Then, in a moment, all the girl’s fighting blood was up,—and she knew that she meant to win the struggle.
“Victor,” she whispered, her hand on the horse’s glossy neck, “Victor, fight with me, not against me, and help me to be a victor, too.”
Perhaps the horse understood; perhaps there was something magical in the touch of Blue Bonnet’s fingers, for suddenly he stood quite still.
The next moment Blue Bonnet was in the saddle and they were off.
CHAPTER X
UNCLE CLIFF
It was a rough ride, the narrow down-hill road turning abruptly more than once; then came a short cut across country through seldom-used lanes, with a field to cross before reaching the broad mill road.
At first, Victor was disposed to repent his sudden yielding; disposed to display that repentance very actively. And then Victor realized that the hand on the bridle rein was firm and steady—the hand of the master; and that his rider, if only a girl, knew how to ride.
And all the way, above the hurry and excitement, above her anxiety for Alec, one thought rang triumphantly through Blue Bonnet’s mind—she was not afraid.