the coach. "My men are of the opinion that the ice
will not bear so much weight as your coach with you ladies and Caesar in
it, but if you can mount your horses we can lead them and you can cross
in safety. Meanwhile Caesar can remain here to guard your property, and
when my men fetch the horses back they can assist him to transport the
coach to the other side. I hope the plan meets your approbation. It
seems the only feasible one, provided you ladies can ride without a
saddle."

"Bless me," cried Mrs. Seymour, "I shall surely slip off on the ice!
Betty here is a horsewoman, but, alas! I am not."

"Then we must contrive a way," replied Geoffrey. "If a blanket be
strapped over my saddle I think you can sit on it.--Caesar, put one of
those blankets on my horse instead of yours."

"Oh, that will do nicely; how kind you are, Captain Yorke."

"Will the young lady be able to ride one of your horses?" asked
Geoffrey, addressing Mrs. Seymour.

"I can ride anything," said Betty hastily, "for my mare is"--and then
she bit her lip and colored brightly as Geoffrey turned toward her.

"You will be quite safe, for I shall lead your horse myself. Let me
first attend Mrs. Seymour."

Between terror and small gasps of laughter Mrs. Seymour's mounting was
accomplished, and then Geoffrey (artful fellow!) summoned a tall,
good-looking trooper from the patrol, and, placing the reins in Mrs.
Seymour's hand, gave directions to the man.

"You will hold the horse by the bridle and guide every step with care,
letting the lady put her hand on your shoulder to steady herself. Be
watchful of the air-holes; I think you know the path well."

"Yes, captain," said the trooper, saluting respectfully. "Am I to
dismount the lady at the Inn?"

"Aye; go down the path before me;" and Geoffrey turned toward Betty, but
again the mischievous maid had been too quick for him, and he beheld her
already mounted on one of the coach horses, where she sat demurely and
at ease awaiting him. Geoffrey seized the bridle and walked slowly down
the bank, taking great care of his own steps lest he should by slipping
cause the horse to stumble, and in a few seconds they were slowly
picking their way over the rough ice. The horse's hoofs crunched into
the snow, and Betty held her breath, and a little thrill went over her
as she fancied she heard the ice crack under them.

"Oh!"--a half-involuntary cry escaped her, and Geoffrey looked up
reassuringly as he stroked