A new spirit was beginning to stir in her veins. The speed of the cars was of itself exciting—those long strides at the full stretch of the iron racer, when the wheels, instead of measuring the track with a steady roll, rise up and drop again with a sharp click, as regular as verse; not that cantering line of Virgil's, "Quadrupedante" and the rest, but a hard, iambic gallop. Besides this, the sense of danger and power combined was intoxicating. For, after all, danger is intolerable only when we have nothing to oppose to it.
There had been trees and rocks, but they were changed to a buzz, the road became a dizziness, and the whole landscape swam. There was something near the track that looked about as much like horsemen as the shadow of the same would look in broken, swift-running water; a few shots were heard, there was a little rattle of shivered glass; then all the men broke into a shout.
"Did you hear Jennie smile?" asked the captain, as he put Paterfamilias carefully into his belt again.
Margaret laughed with delight, and gave her handkerchief a little flutter out the window. "I can guess how chain-lightning feels," she said; "only it can't go on minutes and minutes."
Chapter XII.
The Court Of The King.
After their little adventure, our travellers rode triumphantly into Washington, and Miss Hamilton found her friends glad to receive her the more so that she came as a boarder, and their house was nearly empty.
The Blacks had, in their younger days, been humble followers of Doctor Hamilton; and though their acquaintance with Margaret was slight, as they felt a kind of duty toward all the connection, they were proud to receive her.
"I am anxious about friends whom I have not heard from for some time," she explained; "and I have come here to look round a little."
"Who do you know in the army?" Mrs. Black inquired, not too delicately, considering the reserve with which her visitor had spoken.