"I am trying to enjoy it," she said, "but I think I am dreadfully frightened."
Aymer glanced at the road—it was straight and level for another four hundred yards, then it disappeared, and he remembered it pitched sharply forward in a rough and twisting descent. Whatever he did must be done quickly—no horse ever foaled could carry its rider down that declivity at such a speed.
"Death waits yonder," he said, pointing to the brow of the hill. "I must lift you to my saddle. Will you risk it?"
She hesitated; then suddenly loosed her foot from the stirrup.
"I am ready," she said—and smiled again.
De Lacy dropped his reins.
"Closer, Selim, closer," he commanded.
The black; drew over until his master's boot was pressing the Countess's saddle girth.
"When I give the word," said De Lacy, "free yourself from the pommel and catch me around the neck."
The Countess nodded. "I understand," she said, and gave a quick look forward. The hill was getting very near.