had therefore not thought it worth while to
bring an escort with her. Besides, whom had she to fear? Since she had
lived in these parts, all the bad men had disappeared, and whoever she
might meet in the roads or lanes would be ready to kiss her hand.

So she turned homewards again alone. The road wound in and out among the
valleys and was therefore much longer than if it had gone in a straight
direction across the mountains. She had, however, often heard from the
peasants that there was a shorter way to Hidvar from Ravacsel on which
mules and ponies could go, and she thought it better to look for this
road lest night should surprise her among the mountains. But a road that
is good enough for mules and ponies may not suit a thoroughbred English
steed which does not care about putting its hoofs into the tracks of
other beasts; and besides, a hundred paces on level ground is much
shorter than twenty-five up hill. Henrietta vividly experienced the
truth of this when she reached the summit of the hill, for her horse was
sweating from every pore and trembling from the violent exertion. Such
horses should not be used in hilly country: a shaggy, sturdy little pony
would have treated the whole thing as a joke and not said a word about
it.

But the real difficulties of the road only began during the descent,
which was equally dangerous for horse and rider. The track, a mere
channel washed out of the soft sandstone by the mountain torrents,
descended abruptly, the stones giving way beneath the horse's hoofs and
plunging after it. Frequently they had to cross very awkward places, and
Henrietta could see from the way in which her horse pricked up his ears,
snorted and shook his head, that he was as frightened as his mistress.

At last they came to a very bad spot indeed, where on one side of the
road there was a sheer abyss, while the rocky mountain side rose
perpendicularly on the other. The narrow path here ran so close to the
rock that the rider had to bend her head aside so as not to knock it,
and the horse could only go forward one foot at a time.

For an instant the horse stood still, as if weighing his chances on that
narrow path; but, as there was no turning back now, he was obliged at
last to go on.

Henrietta looked shudderingly down into the chasm below her, over which
she seemed to hang suspended; and she thought to herself, with something
very like a sob: what if we should stumble now!

The thought was scarcely i