r pressed under the dark lace, her face
partly covered by the big hat, and the coat closely buttoned and
reaching nearly to her heels, Sally might well have been taken for a
tall boy bound on an errand, or striding homeward from a late dance.

She made straight for Ingleside, reaching it from the parson's at a
point below the stables, and, oh, joy! she nearly cried out with
delight.

Hotspur was tethered in a square paddock, well behind the stables,
Sampson, or "Samp," an enormous watch-dog who would have let no stranger
approach, beside him. But Samp she knew well, and quieted him with a
soft word.

What made Sally so sure that she could ride a great fiery horse she
could not have told, but some natures there are so fearless and yet so
sweet that animals will follow them wherever they may lead.

And when Maid Sally went up to Hotspur and drew down the beautiful short
head and patted and pinched the soft nose, then, letting down a couple
of bars and pulling at the bridle, led him over the thick turf, the
great creature followed with slow, silent tread as the brave young girl
went out into the back road. Samp went back as he was bidden, obedient
as a child.

On went Sally, her heart thumping lest some one should hear and sharply
order her back.

At a little distance she led Hotspur to a stile, and climbing up, still
holding the bridle, she mounted without accident.

"Now up and away, Hotspur!" she cried, pressing her feet to the powerful
sides. And up and away it was!

For Sally neither drew rein, nor did Hotspur once break his long,
splendid stride until nearly an hour had passed.

[Illustration: "FOR SALLY NEITHER DREW REIN NOR DID HOTSPUR ONCE BREAK
HIS LONG, SPLENDID STRIDE."]

Sally had noted the direction from which the three horsemen had come in
the afternoon. She knew also that Pamunkey turnpike was almost a day's
journey from Williamsburg.

Fully four hours must she ride before going half the distance. But the
stage-wagon was slow compared to Hotspur's fleet hoofs.

The meeting-house clock had struck twelve as she rode through the town,
and now it must be about one. But a single help could she have to guide
her, and she said to herself:

"Well it is that Parson Kendall hath taught me somewhat about the stars.
I must keep the big dipper directly before me or I shall alter my
course. Pamunkey turnpike lieth before me as the crow flies. Often
enough have I heard that."

As if her own voice was li