"Thy steps are dancing toward the bound
Between the child and woman,
And thoughts and feelings more profound,
And other years are coming."
SIDNEY WALKER.
If I say that my heart beat a little quicker, as I came in sight of the group before the steps, I shall acknowledge to no inexcusable weakness. Mrs. Roberts stood a little at one side, with a darker, more gloomily prophetical cast of countenance than ever, and seemed to be giving some unwelcome advice to Mr. Rutledge, who, saying briefly, "I cannot disappoint her now," turned uneasily to Michael, who held the horses, and who was to accompany me, and appeared to give him some emphatic directions, to which the man, from time to time, nodded assent.
And the mare herself! Michael's whole strength was but sufficient to control her under the unaccustomed restraint. She was a beautiful animal, glossy black, clean-limbed, and delicately made, with a head and neck that told "she came of gentle blood," as plainly as aristocratic lineaments ever spoke. The insane absurdity of my controlling such a fiery, powerful thing as she, rushed sickeningly over me, but I never for a moment entertained the idea of giving up. If I had been ten times surer than I was, that I should be thrown within the first half mile, I should have rejected with scorn the advice of Mrs. Roberts, who now came forward and favored me with her views on the subject of the proposed expedition. I had more than one reason for desiring to keep her at a distance; so raising my skirt as carefully as I could, I ran down the steps to where Mr. Rutledge stood. When he saw me, he immediately cleared his brow of the shade of anxiety that had been contracting it during his conversation with Michael, and said, smilingly:
"Madge Wildfire is as impatient to be off as her mistress."
"Pretty creature!" I said, patting her neck with a hand that trembled visibly; then, with a voice that was meant to be very cheerful and unconcerned, I added:
"What a perfect afternoon it is! I wish you were going."
"I wish I were," he said, taking in at a glance the unsteadiness of the hand that patted Madge's neck, and the direful whiteness of the lips that spoke. After a moment of reflection he turned to Michael and gave him some order that sent him rapidly toward the stable, while Thomas was summoned to hold the horses, and telling me to wait a moment, Mr. Rutledge hurried into the house. I did not rightly comprehend the reason of this delay, till I saw him reappear, with riding gloves on and a whip in his hand followed by Mrs. Roberts, whose astonishment and anxiety were undisguised.
"It's madness sir! With one hand you can hardly guide your own horse, let alone that creature she's to ride; and if you'll forgive me for being so plain, you may have to pay dearly for it! You are humoring a foolish girl at the risk of your life!"
Mr. Rutledge stopped short. "My old friend," he said in a tone of decision, "you know I will always bear with more from you, than from almost any one else; but you must remember, there is such a thing as going too far. I cannot be interfered with in this way, even by you," and he descended the steps.
Mrs. Roberts groaned, and turned away, silenced temporarily. Michael reappeared with Mr. Rutledge's horse, Madge was soothed, and brought to where I stood, and Michael tossed me up on her back. Before I could realize the dizzy height, or get the reins fairly in my grasp, she was off with an eager bound that showed how great had been her impatience at the delay. I kept my seat—more I did not attempt to do, as at a tearing pace she darted down the avenue. The reins were in my hands, but they might as well have been around her neck, for all the use I made of them. Fortunately the gate was open, but before we reached it Mr. Rutledge was by my side.