At Love's Cost

"Why not?" she demanded, scornfully. "Is she afraid, or is it you who

are afraid? Both, perhaps? We shall see!"

Before he could catch her rein she had struck Adonis twice with the

sharp, cutting whip, and with a shake of his head and a snort of rage

and resentment, he stood on his haunches for a moment, then leapt

forward and began to race down the hill. Stafford saw that the horse

had bolted, either from fear or anger; he knew that it would only

increase Maude's peril if he galloped in pursuit behind her; he,

therefore, checked his horse and made, in a slanting line, for a point

towards which he judged Adonis would go. Maude was swaying in her

saddle, in which she could only keep herself by clutching at the

pommel; it seemed every moment as if she must fall, as if the horse

itself must fall and throw her like a stone down the steep hill.

Ida, the moment she had got over the top of the hill, had ridden

quickly, and, of course, quite fearlessly and safely, and had got

Rupert so well in hand, as usual, that when she heard the clatter

behind her, and, turning, saw the peril in which Maude had put herself,

she was able to pull Rupert up. It was almost a repetition of what had

occurred the other day; but this time Maude Falconer's peril was

infinitely greater; for her horse was half mad and tearing down the

steep hill-side, rendered doubly dangerous by the loose stones, and was

all too evidently indifferent whether he stood or fell. And yet another

risk lay just below; for William had been digging in that spot for

stones to mend the bank, and even if the maddened horse saw the hole,

it was more than probable that he would not be able to pull up in time.

Such moments as these form the criterion of true courage. There was

only one way in which Ida could save, or attempt to save, the

white-faced woman who was drawing towards her at breakneck speed. What

she would have to attempt to do would be to ride straight for the

oncoming horse, swerve almost as she reached it, and keep side by side

with it until she could succeed either in turning it away from that

horrible hole, or stop it by throwing it. She did not hesitate for a

moment.

It may be said in all truth that at that moment she forgot that the

woman whose life she was going to save was Maude Falconer; she did not

realise the fact--or, if she did, she was indifferent to it--that she

was risking her own life to save the woman who had robbed her of

Stafford. There was the life to be saved, and that was enough for Ida.

She slipped her foot almost out of the stirrup, felt Rupert's mouth

firmly but gently, leant forward and whispered a word to him, which it

is very likely he understood--perhaps he saw all the game even before

she did--and, with an encouraging touch of her hand, she let him go.