ull a quarter of an hour,
and as for the old Dutch clock in the bar, that was worn out, completely
good for nothing, I am certain, for I ordered my horse round to the door
above ten minutes too soon by that, and I'm sure I didn't start before
my time,--it would have been folly to do so, you know, because it was
possible old Peter might send at any moment before the expiration of
that half-hour. But at last even it came to an end--and no message had
arrived; so, burning with impatience, I sprang into the saddle, and with
difficulty restraining myself from dashing off at a gallop, I reined in
the mare, and proceeded at a foot's pace up the lane.

After riding about a quarter of a mile, I perceived a small hand-gate
just under a magnificent oak, which I at once recognised as the tree old
Peter had described. Unwilling to attract the notice of the gamekeeper
and his myrmidons by loitering about in the lane, I discovered a gap
in a hedge on the other side the road, and, after glancing round to see
that I was unobserved, I rode at it, and leaped into the opposite field,
where, hidden behind a clump of alders, I could perceive all that passed
in the road. But for a long time nothing did pass, save a picturesque
donkey, whose fore-feet being fastened together by what are called
"hobbles,"{1} advanced by a series of jumps--a mode of progression which
greatly alarmed the sensitive nerves of my mare, causing her to plunge
and pull in a way which gave me some trouble to hold her.

After I had succeeded in quieting her, I dismounted, and, tightening the
saddle-girths, which had become loosened during her struggles, got on
again; still no one came. At length, just as I was beginning to despair,
I heard the

1 Query, whether so called because they oblige the wearer to
_hobble _?

~418~~ sound of horses' feet, and old Peter, mounted on a stout cob,
rode to the wicket-gate, and heldit open, while Clara on a pretty
chestnut pony cantered up, and passed through it.

Oh! how my heart beat, when, reining in her pony, she glanced round for
a moment, as if in search of something, and then, with a slight gesture
of disappointment, struck him lightly with her riding-whip, and bounded
forward. Old Peter seemed still more puzzled, and looked up and down the
road with an air of the most amusing perplexity, before he made up his
mind to follow his mistress. About a hundred yards from this spot, the
lane turned abruptly to the left, s