Finding at last that drumming the cob’s sides was of no use, jerking the bit of not the slightest avail, and that whacks with the sheathed sword only produced whisks of the tail, Mark subsided into a sulky silence, and rode at a walk, watching the enemy’s back as he trudged steadily on.
The vale grew more gloomy on the right side, the steep limestone hill being all in shadow, and the rough blocks looked like grotesque creatures peering out from among the blackening bushes; and as he rode on, the lad could not help thinking that by night the place might easily scare ignorant, untutored, superstitious people, who saw, or fancied they saw, strange lights here and there.
“And in the sunshine it is as bright as the other hill,” thought Mark, as he glanced at the left side of the dale; “not very bright, though. It’s a desolate place at the best of times;” and once more he glanced up the steep slope on his right.
“Wonder why they call it Ergles,” he mused. “Let’s see; it’s up there where the cave with the hot spring is. Not a bit farther on.”
He was still a long distance from home, and knowing that before long Ralph Darley would turn off to the left, he again made an effort to urge on the cob, but in vain.
“And he’ll go home thinking I’m afraid,” muttered the lad; “but first time I meet him, and he isn’t a miserable, wretched, contemptible cripple, I’ll show him I’m not.”
“Then you shall show him now,” the cob seemed to say, for it broke into a smart canter, but only because the bottom of the dale was here free from stones, and in a very short time Ralph was overtaken.
“Here, hi! fellow! clear the road,” shouted Mark; and he essayed to stop. But now, the way being good, the cob was anxious to get on and reach its stable, passing Ralph quickly enough, and enraging its rider more and more.
“Oh, you brute, you brute!” he muttered. “Now he can’t help thinking I’m afraid of him. If I only had a whip.”
For the moment Mark felt disposed to turn in the saddle, and make some insulting gesture at the lad behind—one that would make him, if he had any courage within, come running rapidly in pursuit. But the act would have seemed too weak and boyish, when he wanted to be manly; and he refrained, contenting himself with dragging hard at the rein, till a hundred yards farther the ground grew stony again, and the pony dropped into a walk, and picked its way in and out more slowly than ever.