In fact it was Mrs. Freke, who had been out shooting with a party of gentlemen, and who had scrambled upon this rocking-stone, on the summit of which she went through the manual exercise at the word of command from her officer. As they rode nearer to the scene of action, Belinda heard the shrill screams of a female voice, and they descried amongst the gentlemen a slight figure in a riding habit.
“Miss Moreton, I suppose,” said Mr. Vincent.
“Poor girl! what are they doing with her?” cried Belinda.
“They seem to be forcing her up to the top of that place, where she has no mind to go. Look how Mrs. Freke drags her up by the arm!”
As they drew nearer, they heard Mrs. Freke laughing loud as she rocked this frightened girl upon the top of the stone.
“We had better keep out of the way, I think,” said Belinda: “for perhaps, as she has vowed vengeance against me, she might take a fancy to setting me upon that pinnacle of glory.”
“She dare not,” cried Vincent, his eyes flashing with anger: “you may trust to us to defend you.”
“Certainly!—But I will not run into danger on purpose to give you the pleasure of defending me,” said Belinda; and as she spoke, she turned her horse another way.
“You won’t turn back, Miss Portman?” cried Vincent eagerly, laying his hand on her bridle.—“Good Heavens, ma’am! we can’t run away!—We came here to look at these rocking-stones!—We have not half seen them. Lady Anne and the children will be here immediately. You would not deprive them of the pleasure of seeing these things!”
“I doubt whether they would have much pleasure in seeing some of these things! and as to the rest, if I disappoint the children now, Mr. Percival will, perhaps, have the goodness to bring them some other day.”