It was the worst word he could have said.
In an instant all Lord Leycester's repentances fled.
With a smothered oath on his lips, he advanced toward him.
"What! Is that all you have to say? Do you know, you miserable wretch, that you nearly rode over this lady—yes, rode over her? Answer for it! Confound you——" and he raised his arm.
But Stella, all her wits on the qui vive, was in time, and her own arms were wound about his, on which the muscles stood thick and prominent—like iron bands.
With a gesture he became calm again, and there was a mute prayer for pardon in his eyes as he looked at her.
"Do not be afraid," he murmured, between his lips; "I will not hurt him. No, no."
Then he pointed to the horse.
"Mount, sir, and get out of my sight. Stop!" and the fiery passion broke out again. "No, by Heaven, you shall not, until you have begged the lady's pardon."
"No, no!" said Stella.