s. So much of her
throat and chin as he could see were beautifully white; and there was a
prettiness in her air and figure which made him think what a beautiful
creature she in all likelihood was. She was reclining slightly against
the burly man in bottle-green and gold, and her arm was round his neck,
and her slender white hand showed itself over his shoulder.

"Ho! my little Geaiette," cried the old fellow hoarsely; "it will be
time that you and I should get home.--So, Bale Mardykes, I have nothing
to object to you this time; you've crossed the lake, and you've played
with me and won and lost, and drank your glass like a jolly companion,
and now we know one another; and an acquaintance is made that will last.
I'll let you go, and you'll come when I call for you. And now you'll
want to know what horse will win next month at Rindermere
races.--Whisper me, lass, and I'll tell him."

So her lips, under the black curtain, crept close to his ear, and she
whispered.

"Ay, so it will;" roared the old man, gnashing his teeth; "it will be
Rainbow, and now make your best speed out of the forest, or I'll set my
black dogs after you, ho, ho, ho! and they may chance to pull you down.
Away!"

He cried this last order with a glare so black, and so savage a shake of
his huge fist, that Sir Bale, merely making his general bow to the
group, clapped his hat on his head, and hastily began his retreat; but
the same discordant voice yelled after him:

"You'll want that, you fool; pick it up." And there came hurtling after
and beside him a great leather bag, stained, and stuffed with a heavy
burden, and bounding by him it stopped with a little wheel that brought
it exactly before his feet.

He picked it up, and found it heavy.

Turning about to make his acknowledgments, he saw the two persons in
full retreat; the profane old scoundrel in the bottle-green limping and
stumbling, yet bowling along at a wonderful rate, with many a jerk and
reel, and the slender lady in black gliding away by his side into the
inner depths of the forest.

So Sir Bale, with a strange chill, and again in utter solitude, pursued
his retreat, with his burden, at a swifter pace, and after an hour or
so, had recovered the point where he had entered the forest, and passing
by the druidic stone and the mighty oak, saw down the glen at his right,
standing by the edge of the lake, Philip Feltram, close to the bow of
the boat.

CHAPTER XXI

Rindermere