And Muriel, too, was careering merrily down the slope, with Gerald for steersman. It was a sport in which they frequently indulged, and many a chilly promenade upon the frozen snow, on the top of the hill, had it cost Aunt Matilda that winter, though she never dropped a complaint which might check or damp her darling's pleasure. Perhaps, too, she may have found the chaperonage not altogether an infliction in every aspect. By some happy concurrence of circumstances Considine was always of the party. He might have dropped in to visit the ladies before the hour for setting out, or else he would accompany young Gerald when he called to persuade them to go; assuredly he was always there, and freighted with rugs of the thickest and warmest. When the ground was reached, he was curious in his selection of the snuggest nooks and corners sheltered from the wind to rest in; and when his rugs were heaped on the sealskins she already wore, Miss Matilda found she was not one bit cold in the world, and Considine in attendance, who on these occasions was invited to smoke, was perfectly happy, and blessed the inventor of the toboggan.
Muriel and Gerald were experienced voyagers who slid down and clambered up again in calm familiarity with what they were about, without transports of timidity or delight, but in thorough enjoyment. Muriel sat motionless like a part of the outfit, and Gerald was able to steer their way intricately and securely between others more laggard or awkward who got in the way and would have brought grief to a less skilful pilot. And then it was so pleasant to be together, though neither said so, they were so used to it--had been used to it for three or four winters now--and it had grown on them so quietly that they said and perhaps thought nothing about it. There were no speeches; there was no opportunity for them, for there had been no breaks in their intimacy. A boy and girl companionship at first, it had strengthened and progressed with themselves, till, while it was possible neither might have confessed an attachment to the other, it was certain they could never, now, attach themselves to any one else. They were comrades, at least in their winter exercises, but without the rough familiarity which sometimes arises in that relation. Muriel's virginal rearing by those worthy gentlewomen, her aunts, had made that impossible on her side; and Gerald had been his mother Martha's "vineyard," tended and weeded and cared for assiduously as to his moral nature, brought up in manliness to scorn evil and reverence women, as only that quaint daughter of the solitary places in "Noo Hampshire" could have done.
The moon hung in the highest heaven, the snow near by was aglitter in its sheen, the distance was dim with hazy brightness, and many tobogganers had come in from around to join the sport. The place was not inclosed, it was a bare hill-face at other times, and somewhat out of the way; but it suited, and when once a few had used it into shape, all the tobogganing world was glad to avail itself of it. Its out-of-the-way-ness alone preserved it to the use of its quieter frequenters from the gamins and "roughs" of the more densely-peopled streets; but this night was so gloriously still and bright and exhilarating that those who had tasted its brightness could not tear themselves away, and as the shop-lights were extinguished they wandered farther afield instead of creeping under dusky shelter and going to sleep. The snow was dotted with groups of a dozen or a score, streaming out from the town and coming to the snow slide. All were on foot, a few on snow shoes, and many dragging hand-sleds behind them--those devices of the enemy which make the winter street of America so dangerous for an elderly gentleman. He will look around for a policeman to stop urchins coasting in mid-highway, at the hazard of their skulls, from passing horse-kicks; he will not find one, but with a roar and a sweep another coaster will rush down the pavement, bruising his shins, over-turning him, and passing on its career of devastation before he can gather himself up to box the audacious ears of the offenders.
"What a crowd of people are gathering down here at the end of the track," observed Muriel, as she stepped off the toboggan at the journey's end to re-climb the hill.
"Yes," said Gerald, "a great many. I do not mind their standing down here, they seem peaceable. They are only looking on, and soon they will find it cold, and go away. But look at the crowd up there at the top! They seem a more unruly crew. I fear there will be a row. Ah!" he added, "there it is! Our pleasure is over for to-night. There is a rowdy with a hand-sled, starting down the course. Hsh! what a pace--and another--and a third. The third has upset, however, and rolled down the hill. I could almost wish he would get in front of number four. It would certainly hurt him, and spill number four as well, and both deserve it. It will not be safe to launch a toboggan now. The iron shod runners of the sleds travel as fast again as a flat toboggan board. We shall get run into and smashed. I fear we must knock off for to-night. I am awfully sorry, but really it is not safe, with a parcel of roughs in possession of the slide."
"Don't say so," said Muriel. They were climbing the bank, she leaned on his arm, and she pressed on it just a shade heavier as she said it.
"No doubt," he answered; "they must soon give it up. The ground is too steep for runners. See how they shoot, and how far they are carried beyond where we stopped. And there is a ditch there too. The least thing will upset them coming down at such a bat, and somebody will get hurt. They will all get hurt in time, but we shall have too long to wait for it, I fear."
"Don't you think we might have just one or two more? The evening is only beginning, and it is so lovely. I do not feel one bit afraid, you steer so beautifully."
And what could Gerald do but yield when so appealed to, and so flattered?
They made another descent in safety, and then another, in which Gerald performed prodigies of steering which elicited the lively applause of the onlookers, and filled himself and his companion with confidence and pride. For now the sled-riding invaders were in possession of the field, the tobogganers having withdrawn, all save Gerald, who, in the new position of affairs, appeared as the intruder, and whom the majority in possession now set themselves deliberately to molest and chase from the ground; shooting down after him, and endeavouring to run into him from different sides, when he would suddenly veer out of his course and leave the chasers to run into each other, with bruises and scatterings, and derision from the onlookers.