Clavering’s fingers were very cold, and the girls’ still colder, before he had somehow girthed a rug about each of the horses and ruthlessly cut and knotted the reins. The extemporized saddles did not look very secure, but Hetty lightly swung herself into one, though Miss Schuyler found it difficult to repress a cry, and was not sure that she quite succeeded, when Clavering lifted her to the other.
“I’m quite sure I shall fall off,” she said.
Hetty was evidently very much displeased at something, for she seemed to forget Clavering was there. “If you do I’ll never speak to you again,” she said. “You might have been fond of him, Flo. There wasn’t the least necessity to put your arm right around his neck.”
Clavering wisely stooped to do something to one of his moccasins, for he saw an ominous sparkle in Miss Schuyler’s eyes, but he looked up prematurely and the smile was still upon his lips when he met Hetty’s gaze.
“How are you going to get anywhere?” she asked.
“Well,” said Clavering, “it is quite a long while now since I was able to walk alone.”
Hetty shook her bridle, and the Badger started at a trot; but when Miss Schuyler followed, Clavering, who fancied that her prediction would be fulfilled, also set off at a run. He was, however, not quite fast enough, for when he reached her Miss Schuyler was sitting in the snow. She appeared to be unpleasantly shaken and her lips were quivering. Clavering helped her to her feet, and then caught the horse.
“The wretched thing turned round and slid me off,” she said, when he came back with it, pointing to the rug.
Clavering tugged at the extemporized girth. “I am afraid you can only try again. I don’t think it will slip now,” he said.
Miss Schuyler, who had evidently lost her nerve, mounted with difficulty and after trotting for some minutes pulled up once more, and was sitting still looking about her hopelessly when Clavering rejoined her.