Melbury waited till Mrs. Charmond had re-entered the drawing-room, and
then followed after Fitzpiers, thinking that he would allow the latter
to mount and ride ahead a little way before overtaking him and giving
him a piece of his mind. His son-in-law might possibly see the second
horse near his own; but that would do him no harm, and might prepare
him for what he was to expect.
The event, however, was different from the plan. On plunging into the
thick shade of the clump of oaks, he could not perceive his horse
Blossom anywhere; but feeling his way carefully along, he by-and-by
discerned Fitzpiers's mare Darling still standing as before under the
adjoining tree. For a moment Melbury thought that his own horse, being
young and strong, had broken away from her fastening; but on listening
intently he could hear her ambling comfortably along a little way
ahead, and a creaking of the saddle which showed that she had a rider.
Walking on as far as the small gate in the corner of the park, he met a
laborer, who, in reply to Melbury's inquiry if he had seen any person
on a gray horse, said that he had only met Dr. Fitzpiers.
It was just what Melbury had begun to suspect: Fitzpiers had mounted
the mare which did not belong to him in mistake for his own--an
oversight easily explicable, in a man ever unwitting in horse-flesh, by
the darkness of the spot and the near similarity of the animals in
appearance, though Melbury's was readily enough seen to be the grayer
horse by day. He hastened back, and did what seemed best in the
circumstances--got upon old Darling, and rode rapidly after Fitzpiers.
Melbury had just entered the wood, and was winding along the cart-way
which led through it, channelled deep in the leaf-mould with large ruts
that were formed by the timber-wagons in fetching the spoil of the
plantations, when all at once he descried in front, at a point where
the road took a turning round a large chestnut-tree, the form of his
own horse Blossom, at which Melbury quickened Darling's pace, thinking
to come up with Fitzpiers.
Nearer view revealed that the horse had no rider. At Melbury's
approach it galloped friskily away under the trees in a homeward
direction. Thinking something was wrong, the timber-merchant
dismounted as soon as he reached the chestnut, and after feeling about
for a minute or two discovered Fitzpiers lying on the ground.
"Here--help!" cried the latter as soon as he felt Melbury's touch; "I
have been thrown off, but there's not much harm done, I think."