It was all done in a second. With all the will in the world, Stella had no time to interpose before the rash act was accomplished; but now she sprang between them.
"Lord Leycester," she cried, pale and horror-stricken, as she gazed into his face, white and working with passion; all its beauty gone, and with the mask of a fury in its place. "Lord Leycester!"
At the sound of her voice—pleading, expostulating, rebuking—a shiver ran through him, his hand fell to his side, and still holding the now plunging and furious horse with a grip of steel, he stood humbly before her.
Not so Jasper Adelstone. With a slow, sinuous movement he rose and shook himself, and glared at him. Speechless from the sheer breathlessness of furious hate he stood and looked at the tall, velvet-clad figure.
Stella was the first to break the silence.
"Oh, my lord!" she said.
At the sound of her reproachful voice, Lord Leycester's face paled.
"Forgive me," he said, humbly. "I beg—I crave your forgiveness; but I thought you were in danger, you were—you were!" Then, at the thought, his fiery passion broke out again, and he turned to the silent, white-faced Jasper. "What the devil do you mean by riding in that fashion?"
Jasper Adelstone's lips moved, and at last speech came.
"You shall answer for this, Lord Leycester."