rank as the finest horse in all Sogn. By the side of Lady Clare he
looked as a stout, good-looking peasant lad with coltish manners might
have looked by the side of the daughter of a hundred earls.

But John Garvestad, who was naturally prejudiced in favor of his
own horse, could scarcely be blamed for failing to recognize her
superiority. He knew that formerly, on Sundays, the men were wont to
gather with admiring comment about Valders-Roan; while now they stood
craning their necks, peering through the windows of the parson's stable,
in order to catch a glimpse of Lady Clare, and all the time Valders-Roan
was standing tied to the fence, in full view of all, utterly neglected.
This spectacle filled him with such ire that he hardly could control
himself. His first impulse was to pick a quarrel with Erik; but a second
and far brighter idea presently struck him. He would buy Lady Clare.
Accordingly, when the captain and his son had mounted their horses
and were about to start on their homeward way, Garvestad, putting
Valders-Roan to his trumps, dug his heels into his sides and rode up
with a great flourish in front of the churchyard gate.

"How much will you take for that mare of yours, captain?" he asked, as
he checked his charger with unnecessary vigor close to Lady Clare.

"She is not mine to sell," the captain replied. "Lady Clare belongs to
my son."

"Well, what will you take for her, then?" Garvestad repeated,
swaggeringly, turning to Erik.

"Not all the gold in the world could buy her," retorted Erik, warmly.

Valders-Roan, unable to resist the charms of Lady Clare, had in the
meanwhile been making some cautious overtures toward an acquaintance.
He arched his mighty neck, rose on his hind legs, while his tremendous
forehoofs were beating the air, and cut up generally--all for Lady
Clare's benefit.

She, however, having regarded his performances for awhile with a mild
and somewhat condescending interest, grew a little tired of them and
looked out over the fiord, as a belle might do, with a suppressed yawn,
when her cavalier fails to entertain her. Valders-Roan, perceiving the
slight, now concluded to make more decided advances. So he put forward
his nose until it nearly touched Lady Clare's, as if he meant to kiss
her. But that was more than her ladyship was prepared to put up with.
Quick as a flash she flung herself back on her haunches, down went her
ears, and hers was the angriest horse's head that ever ha