“Couldn’t be better, father,” said the lad, though he felt a little disappointed, for he half expected that his father would have given it to him.
“Call her, then, and she shall try it. And by the way, Mark, there is that other—that chestnut—which will do for you.”
The lad flushed with pleasure, for he had fully believed that his father intended the handsome, strongly made chestnut for his own use. Mary Eden was fetched, came out, and tried the gentle, slightly-built palfrey, and the chestnut was brought too, proving everything that could be desired.
“There!” said Sir Edward, after their paces had been tried in one of the meadows; “now you are both better mounted than any young people in the Midlands, so go and have a good round together, and get back well before dark. Don’t distress the horses, and go right away, and make a round to the west, so as not to go near Ergles. Not that the scoundrels would dare to attack you.”
Ten minutes after, brother and sister were riding slowly along the track on the other side of the river, Mary enjoying the change after being shut up for some weeks; and in consequence, the round was extended to a greater distance than the pair had intended. It was getting toward dark, and they were approaching one of the narrow ravines through which the river ran, one which hardly gave room for the horse track as well, when Mary said merrily:
“You must take the blame, Mark, for we shall not be home by dusk.”
“Oh yes, we shall,” he replied. “Once we are through these rocks, we’ll cut right across country, and—who are those people in front?”
“Carriers, with pack horses and donkeys,” said his sister; “and they have heavy loads too.”
Mark looked long and hard at the party, which was partly hidden by the trees, and then agreed with his sister.
“Yes,” he said; “the horses are loaded with sacks of corn seemingly.”