“Yes, and am willing to ride as hard as you like, if you are pressed for time.”
“Oh, I’m in no hurry. He’s a churl who would not wait while a lover and his lass whispered, and I shall do aught that I can to forward your adventure if there is any obstacle.”
“I thank you, but there is like to be no obstacle at this time of the day. I hope to have the good fortune to find her walking in the garden. This would simplify my quest.”
“Are you forbidden the house, then?”
“In a measure I am. I have my enemies within the walls, but my good friends also. If I get a word with one of the latter, difficulties will dissolve.” Here the youth reined in his horse and sat for a moment anxiously scanning the landscape. A belt of tall trees bordered the lane, with thick undergrowth that seemed impenetrable to sight or movement. Over the tops of the bushes and between the trunks of the trees Armstrong gathered glimpses of a large mansion in the distance, extensive groups of chimneys being the most noticeable feature. Nearer was seen a carpet of green lawn, and beyond, the dappled glitter of the sunlight on a lake.
“Will you hold my horse?” asked the youth, almost in a whisper. “I must reconnoitre.”
He sprang off his horse, and Armstrong grasped the rein.
“I hope they will not neigh,” he said, as he disappeared into the undergrowth. It was evident the youth was well acquainted with his locality.
Armstrong sat silent, occasionally leaning over to stroke the neck of the steed he held in tether. He loved all animals, especially horses, and they reciprocated his affection. Suddenly the silence was shattered by a cry hoarse with rage.
“I have been watching your approach, perjured scoundrel! You shall not escape me this time.”