he blue sea foaming and
chafing among the rocks three hundred feet below, and horribly visible on
both sides at once--the twisted path when you were on it felt no more than
a swinging thread.

It was not every head that could stand it, and small blame to those that
could not.

Here and there, in the three hundred feet stretch, great rock pinnacles
stood out from the precipitous depths and overshadowed the path, and
encouraged the wayfarer by offering him posts of vantage to be attained one
by one. But they were far apart, and at best it was an awesome place even
on foot, while with a horse the dangers were as plain as the path itself.

Still it was a point of honour to cross the Coupee on Riding Day, and some
even compassed it cautiously without dismounting, and took much credit to
themselves, though others might call it by other names.

Some of the girls preferred to take no risks, and got down and walked
wisely and safely, amid the laughter and good-humoured banter of the elect,
across the gulf. Most, however, showed their confidence in their swains,
and at the same time trebled their anxieties, by keeping their seats and
allowing their horses to be led across.

Young Torode came galloping across the Common while Gray Robin and Carette
and I were still waiting our turn. He reined in Black Boy with a firm hand,
and the ruffled black sides worked like bellows, and the angry black head
jerked restively, and the quick-glancing eyes looked troubled and vicious.

Torode laughed derisively as Elie Guerin set out with cautious step to lead
his old horse over, with Judith Drillot clutching the saddle firmly and
wearing a face that showed plainly that it was only a stern sense of duty
to Elie that kept her up aloft.

"Ma foi!" laughed Torode. "He would do it better in a boat. It's well seen
that Monsieur Guerin was not born to the saddle. Has no one ridden across
yet?"

"But yes,--Helier Godfray rode over all right. All the same--" said one,
with a shrug and shake of the head.

"It's as easy as any other road if you've got a steady head and a firm
hand," said Torode.

"Will you ride, Carette, or walk?" I asked. "I shall lead Gray Robin."

She looked down into my eyes for one moment, and I looked up into hers. She
did not like the Coupee, I knew, but she would not put me to shame.

"I will ride," she said.

"You're never going to lead across, Carre?" cried Torode. "And with a horse
like a Dutch galliot! Man alive!