CHAPTER XII.
UNDER THE EVIL EYE.
The morning which had been fixed upon for the riding party was as fine as the many which had preceded it, and there was, as a slice of luck, a fresh breeze blowing from the sea that glittered beyond the cliffs.
Leicester had given his friend Bertie the choice of his stables, and Bertie had selected a rakish-looking chestnut mare, because, as he said, it winked at him as he entered.
"Humor should be encouraged in a horse," he said, with a laugh. "I'll ride this comic old lady."
"And I," said Leicester, "will give the Black Knight a spin."
The Black Knight was a tall, black hunter, a special favorite of Leicester's, and a good but somewhat willful horse.
"I'm afraid the ladies will be burned up," said Mrs. Dodson. "Won't you have a white scarf over your neck, Mr. Fairfax? I can't persuade Leicester, but perhaps you will be more prudent."
"No, thank you, Mrs. Dodson," said Bertie. "I am rather anxious to get tanned, to tell you the truth, but I'm sorry Leicester won't wear one, because if he gets any darker he'll be as black as his horse."