It was whilst engaged in this duty that I became aware of the clatter of a horse’s hoofs approaching rapidly down the village street, and looked up to meet my lady’s scornful eyes, a smile of disdain upon her lips.
’Twas but a moment’s glimpse I gained of her, the next and she had passed; but for me the pleasure had gone from my task and again my thoughts were embittered.
Accordingly I dismissed the men somewhat curtly, and turning my horse’s head, rode past the church in the direction which my lady had taken. I went at a foot pace, however, for I had no desire to overtake the woman in front; at the same time, I was minded to ride as far as Cleevesborough, the tall hill rising to the south of the village. To overtake her? My faith, no! Henceforth I would avoid her and so follow her advice. At the foot of the hill I fastened my horse to a straggling thorn bush and ascended the rest of the way on foot. From the summit I glanced below me.
Some two miles distant my lady showed as a rapidly moving speck upon the ribbon of white road that wound down the valley. A mile or so beyond her I could distinguish the upper portion of a large black-timbered mansion rising above the surrounding trees. Long after she had disappeared beneath the latter, I still remained upon the summit of the hill, admiring the beauty of the scene. At length I descended to where I had left my horse, and mounting, rode slowly down to the level of the road. Arrived there, however, I determined that I would not return by the way that I had come, but would strike inland and make my way in a half circle back to Cleeve.
With this intention I crossed the road and entered the trees upon the opposite side. I found that these did not continue for more than a few hundred yards, giving place to a succession of little grass-grown hollows, covered with sparse, brown bracken, and here and there a scattered boulder breaking through the coarse turf.
In most of these depressions were pools of stagnant water and patches of black bogland that required some caution in avoiding, so that it was not without satisfaction that about a mile farther I came upon a path. It was a mere bridle track running down the centre of the hollow, and was little used, as I saw at once by the marks of the hoof prints upon its surface, which were fully a week old. I set my face in the direction of Cleeve, and the sorrel broke into a trot. The track led from hollow to hollow, some broad, some narrow, and for the most part with marshy, reed-grown ground on either side.
I rode with slackened rein, my hat pressed low upon my brow, and I gave myself up to my thoughts—thoughts in which my lady strangely mingled.
The sun beat down with almost tropical heat upon me; and what little wind there had been on the uplands above was here shut out by the slopes upon either side.
How far I had proceeded thus I do not know, for lulled by the rhythmic stroke of my horse’s hoofs, with half-closed eyes I took no account of time.
On a sudden the sorrel stopped with a jerk that all but unseated me. Then he commenced to back, and I felt his flanks quiver. In an instant I was alert, and I searched the pathway in front with my eyes, thinking perhaps some viper or creature of the bog had startled him. But I could see nothing.