ke Lady
Alicia's horse back to her myself."

Moggridge smiled grimly.

"You won't let go?"

"No fears."

Mr Beveridge put his hand behind his back and silently drove the penknife
a quarter of an inch into his mount's hind quarters. In an instant his
keeper felt himself being lifted nearly off his feet, and in another
actually deposited on his face. Off went the accomplished horseman again
at top speed, but this time back to Lady Alicia. He saw her standing by
the side of the drive, her handkerchief to her eyes, a penitent and
disconsolate little figure. When she heard him coming, she dried her eyes
and looked up, but her face was still tearful.

"Well, I am back from my ride," he remarked in a perfectly usual voice,
dismounting as he spoke.

"The man!" she cried, "where is that dreadful man?"

"What man?" he asked in some surprise.

"The man who chased you."

Mr Beveridge laughed aloud, at which Lady Alicia took fresh refuge in her
handkerchief.

"He follows on foot," he replied.

"Did he catch you? Oh, why didn't you escape altogether?" she sobbed.

Mr Beveridge looked at her with growing interest.

"I had begun to forget my petticoat psychology," he reflected (aloud,
after his unconventional fashion).

"Oh, here he comes," she shuddered. "All blood! Oh, what have you done to
him?"

"On my honour, nothing,--I merely haven't washed his face."

By this time Moggridge was coming close upon them.

"You won't forget a poor soldier?" said Mr Beveridge in a lower voice.

There was no reply.

"A _poor_ soldier," he added, with a sigh, glancing at her from the corner
of his eye. "So poor that even if I had got out, I could only have ridden
till I dropped."

"Would you accept----?" she began, timidly.

"What day?" he interrupted, hurriedly.

"Tuesday," she hesitated.

"Four o'clock, again. Same place as before. When I whistle throw it over
at once."

Before they had time to say more, Moggridge, blood- and gravel-stained,
came up.

"It's all right, miss," he said, coming between them; "I'll see that he
plays no more of 'is tricks. There's nothin' to be afrightened of."

"Stand back!" she cried; "don't come near me!"

Moggridge was too staggered at this outburst to say a word.

"Stand away!" she said, and the bewildered attendant stood away. She
turned to Mr Beveridge.

"Now, will you help me up?"

She mounted lightly, said a brief farewell, and, forgetting all about the
call at Clankwood