"To the left," he said, as we dashed through it. It was, however, because Madge's fancy lay that way, that she took it; I cannot flatter myself that my faintly suggestive touch on the left rein had anything to do with influencing her decision. And on we flew, Michael clattering behind us. It was a pretty clear straight road, bordered on both sides by trees, and slightly descending ground. In a moment, Mr. Rutledge spoke, but so quietly and unexcitedly that I felt soothed even by the tone.
"You sit very well; don't lean forward quite so much; that's better," and in a few minutes he added, "keep a steady rein, don't pull suddenly or hard, but just firm. She is perfectly kind, and you can manage her very nicely after you get used to her."
A confidence in Madge's good disposition, certainly was encouraging, and as Mr. Rutledge didn't seem to feel any alarm or discomposure of any kind, but on the contrary, an assurance that I was equal to what I had undertaken, perhaps, after all I was; and under these influences, something like composure began to return to my startled nerves and something like strength to tighten my hold upon the reins. Still we were tearing onward, Michael now left far behind, and the question of stopping began to exercise me painfully. I knew from the pull upon the bridle, and the eager bounds of the animal beneath me, that as yet, it formed no part of her intention. Presently Mr. Rutledge said, quite nonchalantly—
"I think, when we begin to ascend that hill on our right, we'd better pull up a little. Keep a steady rein till we get there. Let Madge know who's mistress; the lower one's the curb; now, pull; whoa, Madge!"
And Madge did whoa, that is, she slackened in a slight, a very slight degree, her frantic pace, checked perhaps by the new determination of her rider's rein, and the startling emphasis of that decided "whoa."
It was but a very slight symptom of irresolution on her part, but it gave me the advantage; from that moment I determined to be mistress, and before we reached the brow of the hill, Madge had quieted to a walk. I was as white as a ghost, and shook all over, but my companion was considerate enough not to notice it, and checked with a look, Michael's exclamations of alarm, as with open eyes and mouth, that attendant galloped up.
Several miles of country had been got over, before I began, in any degree, to realize that I was out for the purpose of enjoying myself, or before I was able to think of anything in heaven or earth, save the beast I rode.
At last, however, I began to feel, with a sense of exultation the more elating in proportion to the struggle I had had to gain it, that I had my horse under entire control, and with that consciousness, color came to my cheeks, and warmth to my numb hands and feet; I could laugh and talk then, could see that the sky was clear and sunny, and the country we were crossing, the very prettiest and most picturesque imaginable; could feel the wind blowing fresh against my face, as we galloped rapidly over the open road; or listen, with an ear keenly awake to every phase of pleasure, to the rustling of the dead leaves beneath our horses' feet, and the clear ringing of our voices in the still air, as we sauntered along woody passes, or threaded our way through unfrequented bridle-paths.
"How delightful it is!" I exclaimed, and my exclamation was echoed in my companion's look of intense enjoyment. There was a freedom from restraint, an abandonment to the pleasures of the present, that I had not seen in him before. Ten years of care and trial seemed lifted from his brow; a glow of health on his face, and a clear light in his eye, made him almost handsome; and for the time, it was easy for me to forget the differences of age and circumstances; it was an involuntary thing to look upon him as the companion whom most I liked of all I had ever found; the readiest, the keenest, the kindest; one who understood me, himself, and all the world; who could govern me, but whose very tyranny was pleasant; who was, in fact, so far and unquestionably my superior, that it pleased him to lay aside all differences, and be, for the time, the companion and equal of a child, whose very youth and ignorance, appeared the passports to his favor.
For the first time, during this ride he talked to me of himself, and of his past life, but a past far separated from all association or connection with Rutledge. He recounted, for my entertainment, travels and adventures, that had the most exciting charm to my crude ear, at least. And indeed I doubt whether an older and more critical taste could have found anything but pleasure in his vigorous sketches of scenes and incidents that had impressed themselves upon his memory. He was, indeed, an excellent raconteur, and had, beyond any one I have ever known, the power of bringing up, in bodily shape and presence, the places and characters he chose to recall. Whether it was a sunrise among the Alps, or a scene in a French café, it was equally distinct and life-like; I saw the glittering of the sharp cloud piercing icy peaks, as, one by one, they caught the rosy sunlight; or, the men and women in their foreign dress and eager manner, lived and spoke before me, gesticulated, rattled off their voluble absurdities, and vanished from the scene, to give place to pictures of quiet English villages, with sunny meadows and long green lanes, grey churches and mossy gravestones, or quaint old Flemish towns, with their "cathedrals vast and dim," and tall, gloomy houses overhanging the narrow streets; or the rich warmth of some Italian landscape; or the vastness of the illimitable plains of Granada, that stretch away on all sides from the ruined Alhambra; Constantinople, with its mosques and minarets; the Holy City, with its mongrel population and half profaned associations, all were distinctly realized by me, as if I had in very deed been there. Mr. Rutledge rarely exercised his talents for description, and my enraptured attention seemed to surprise him.