“Here, lady,” answered a man, stepping a little more into the light. He was her trusty servant.
“All saddled?”
“Yes, Miss Imogene.”
“Is he here?”
“Out there on the road waiting.”
The man assisted his mistress to mount, and the next moment, giving her steed a tap with her whip, she dashed away to meet her lover.
As Edgar and Imogene met, their eyes sparkled with the thought of love, but neither gave utterance to their thoughts until their horses had borne them away from the cottage. Edgar was the first to speak.
“Were you intending to ride over to the garrison to-night, Imogene?” he said.
“No, not until I received your note.”
“My note?” and Edgar looked puzzled.