Owing to the excessive heat of the weather Haskins usually wore loose white flannels from morning until evening. But on this occasion, to escape the possible watchfulness of Bellaria, he donned a dark-hued riding-dress, with brown gaiters and a tweed cap. In this guise, and when shielded by the semi-gloom of the summer night, he would certainly avoid observation. And of course the chances were that the woman, tormented by her fears, would not venture out of the house after dark. Still, it was best to be on the safe side and dress as inconspicuously as possible.
The animal supplied by the stables of the Prince's Head was not exactly a Derby Winner. He proved to be a wary quadruped, remarkably old and extraordinarily slow, but having the great merit of knowing every inch of the surrounding country, no mean qualification considering the rider's comparative ignorance. However, Gerald had a fair idea of the five miles' route to Leegarth, and in due time the horse got over the ground, although it must be admitted that he did not hurry himself. Haskins reached the village shortly after ten o'clock, and skirted round the houses, so that he should not be observed. An unknown stranger, arriving in so secluded a hamlet, would assuredly awaken the suspicions of the wary Geary, and news travels fast in country districts. So Gerald kept well out of the way, and after a somewhat circuitous route came to the banks of Mother Carey's Peace Pool. Here he fastened his horse to the trunk of an ancient oak, with permission to crop the lush grass, and launched his faithful canoe. Shortly he was perched for the fourth or fifth time on the top of the wall.
The night was perfect. A Romeo and Juliet night, warm and still, with a cloudless sky, radiant with ivory moonlight. Gerald looked down on the quaint peaceful quadrangle sleeping in the chill whiteness, at the range of buildings with their fantastic architecture, and at the darkly solemn trees which girdled this Enchanted Palace. Then he became aware of a slight, white-clothed figure flitting across the shaven lawns, like a ghost of dead-and-gone beauty. A musical whisper stole through the warm stillness, and the adventurer, with a fast-throbbing heart, flung himself on to the boughs of the copper beech, to use it as a stair for descent. In a few minutes he found himself standing in the shadow of the tree, clasping a cool slender hand, and looking into two wonderful eyes which flashed like the stars overhead.
"Oh, you are not in white, Prince," said Mavis, disappointed.
Gerald explained. "I thought it best to wear dark clothes, since Bellaria might be on the watch."
"There is no chance of that. She is fast asleep, and would not leave her bed unless the house went on fire."
"Then again," went on Gerald, pressing her hand, "I had to ride here from Silbury. I could scarcely do that in flannels."
"Well," Mavis dragged him into the radiant moonlight and surveyed him critically, "it doesn't matter. I like you in this suit of clothes. You look so tall and straight and slim, and----"
"Oh, my dear," Gerald laughed, "you will make me vain."
"But you are vain already," she said naively. "Bellaria says that all young men are vain."