the forenoons to solitary angling, or social intercourse with the
swans and the tame doe. But from some mystic concealment within doors
would often float far into the open air the melodies of that magic
flute; and the boy would glide back, along the dark-red mournful walls
of the old house, or the futile pomp of pilastered arcades in the
uncompleted new one, to listen to the sound: listening, he, blissful
boy, forgot the present; he seized the unchallenged royalty of his
years. For him no rebels in the past conspired with poison to the
wine-cup, murder to the sleep. No deserts in the future, arresting the
march of ambition, said, "Here are sands for a pilgrim, not fields for a
conqueror."

CHAPTER X.

In which chapter the history quietly moves on to the next.

Thus nearly a week had gone, and Lionel began to feel perplexed as to
the duration of his visit. Should he be the first to suggest departure?
Mr. Darrell rescued him from that embarrassment. On the seventh day,
Lionel met his host in a lane near the house, returning from his
habitual ride. The boy walked home by the side of the horseman, patting
the steed, admiring its shape, and praising the beauty of another
saddle-horse, smaller and slighter, which he had seen in the paddock
exercised by a groom. "Do you ever ride that chestnut? I think it even
handsomer than this."

"Half our preferences are due to the vanity they flatter. Few can ride
this horse; any one, perhaps, that."

"There speaks the Dare-all!" said Lionel, laughing. The host did not
look displeased.

"Where no difficulty, there no pleasure," said he in his curt laconic
diction. "I was in Spain two years ago. I had not an English horse
there, so I bought that Andalusian jennet. What has served him at need,
no _preux chevalier_ would leave to the chance of ill-usage. So the
jennet came with me to England. You have not been much accustomed to
ride, I suppose?"

"Not much; but my dear mother thought I ought to learn. She pinched
for a whole year to have me taught at a riding-school during one school
vacation."

"Your mother's relations are, I believe, well off. Do they suffer her to
pinch?"

"I do not know that she has relations living; she never speaks of them."

"Indeed!" This was the first question on home matters that Darrell had
ever directly addressed to Lionel. He there dropped the subject, and
said, after a short pause, "I was not aware that you are a horseman, or
I would ha