ght this young man want?" demanded the fellow, with lordly
belligerence, letting M. Radisson pass without question.

Your colonial hero will face the desperate chance of death; but not the
smug arrogance of a beliveried flunkey.

"Wait here," says M. Radisson to me, forgetful of Hortense now that his
own end was won.

And I struck through the copse-wood, telling myself that chance makes
grim sport. Ah, well, the toughening of the wilderness is not to be
undone by fickle fingers, however dainty, nor a strong life blown out
by a girl's caprice! Riders went clanking past. I did not turn. Let
those that honoured dishonour doff hats to that company of loose women
and dissolute men! Hortense was welcome to the womanish men and the
mannish women, to her dandified lieutenant and foreign adventuresses
and grand ambassadors, who bought English honour with the smiles of
evil women. Coming to a high stone wall, I saw two riders galloping
across the open field for the copse wood.

"A very good place to break foolish necks," thought I; for the riders
were coming straight towards me, and a deep ditch ran along the other
side of the wall.

To clear the wall and then the ditch would be easy enough; but to clear
the ditch and then the wall required as pretty a piece of foolhardy
horsemanship as hunters could find. Out of sheer curiosity to see the
end I slackened my walk. A woman in green was leading the pace. The
man behind was shouting "Don't try it! Don't try it! Ride round the
end! Wait! Wait!" But the woman came on as if her horse had the bit.
Then all my mighty, cool stoicism began thumping like a smith's forge.
The woman was Hortense, with that daring look on her face I had seen
come to it in the north land; and her escort, young Lieutenant Blood,
with terror as plainly writ on his fan-shaped elbows and pounding gait
as if his horse were galloping to perdition.

"Don't jump! Head about, Mistress Hillary!" cried the lieutenant.

But Hortense's lips tightened, the rein tightened, there was that
lifting bound into air when horse and rider are one--the quick
paying-out of the rein--the long, stretching leap--the backward
brace--and the wall had been cleared. But Blood's horse balked the
jump, nigh sending him head over into the moat, and seizing the bit,
carried its cursing rider down the slope of the field. In vain the
lieutenant beat it about the head and dug the spurs deep. The beast
sidled off each time h