he sea, robbing the day of its loveliness, and making
it so cold and leaden that it was more than dreary from contrast with
the glorious morning.

They were near the gates which led into their own domain, when a man
came running swiftly towards them, and as he passed looked up in
Elizabeth's face.

Whether her horse was frightened by the stranger rushing so abruptly
past him, or whether she gave some nervous jerk to the reins, was not
apparent; but a sharp cry rang from her lips, the horse made a
simultaneous spring, and though a good rider, Elizabeth was unseated and
thrown from her saddle. Mellen sprang from his horse and bent over his
wife.

"I am not hurt," she said faintly, "not hurt."

The old woman who lived in a little house at the entrance of the grounds
which they had transformed into a lodge, came out at that moment, and
being a Yankee woman of energy and resources, caught Elizabeth's horse,
and was ready to lend a helping hand wherever it might be required.

While this woman led the two horses within the gates and fastened them,
Mellen raised his wife and carried her into the lodge. She was deathly
pale and trembling violently, though in reply to his anxious inquiries,
she repeated the same answer:

"I am not hurt--not at all hurt."

She drank a glass of water, lay down for a few moments on a
cane-bottomed settee, which the room boasted as its principal elegance,
then insisted upon rising.

Mellen sent the woman on to the house, with orders for the people to
send down the carriage, as he would not have permitted Elizabeth to
walk, even if her strength had seemed more equal to the exertion than it
really was.

"Did that man frighten the horse?" he asked, when she appeared composed
enough to speak. "The whole thing was over before I knew it--even before
I saw him clearly he was gone--you cried out--the horse started--"

"No!" she answered with feverish earnestness, "the horse started
first--I should not have shrieked but for that--why should I?"

"The scoundrel must have frightened the horse; did you recognise him?"

"He was running fast, you know, and darted into the woods so suddenly."

"I should like to have lain hands on him!"

"He meant no harm. Gipsy has grown shy of late. Don't think about the
matter--there is no mischief done."

"But there might have been great danger; I cannot bear even now to think
of it."

Elizabeth closed her eyes wearily; her recent elation of spirits was
quit