The colt came waltzing joyously along the road, and catching sight of
the chestnut, whinnied delightedly, and the chestnut responded with one
short whinny of reproof. Ida rode forward and headed the colt, and
Stafford quietly slid along by the hedge and got behind it.

"Take care!" said Ida; "it is very strong. What are you going to do?"

Stafford did not reply, but stole up to the truant step by step
cautiously, and gradually approached near enough to lay his hand on its
shoulder; from its shoulder he worked to its neck and wound his arms
round it.

Ida laughed.

"Oh, you can't hold it!" she said as the colt plunged.

But Stafford hung on tightly and yet, so to speak, gently, soothing the
animal with the "horse language" with which every man who loves them is
acquainted.

Ida sat for an instant, looking round with a puzzled frown; then she
slipped down, took the bridle off the chestnut and slipped it on the
colt, the chestnut, who evidently understood the business, standing
stock still.

"Now I'll hold it--it will be quieter with me--if you will please
change the saddle."

Unthinkingly, Stafford obeyed, and got the saddle on the jigging and
dancing youngster. As unthinkingly, he put Ida up; and it was not until
the colt rose on its hind legs that he remembered to ask her if the
horse were broken.

"Scarcely," she said with a laugh; "but it will be all right.
Good-morning--and thank you!" And calling to the chestnut she turned
the colt and tore off, the chestnut and the dogs scampering after her.

Stafford's face grew hot for a moment with fear for her, then it grew
hotter with admiration as he watched her skimming across the moor in
the direction of the Hall. Once, just before she vanished from his
sight, she turned and waved her hand to him as if to assure him that
she was safe. The gesture reminded him of the white figure standing in
the doorway last night, and something stirred in his heart and sent a
warm thrill through him. In all his life he had never seen anyone like
her!

CHAPTER V.

"You look rather serious, oh, my prince!" said Howard, as, some few
hours later, he leisurely climbed into the phaeton beside Stafford. "I
have noticed with inward satisfaction that as we approach the moment of
meeting with your puissant parent, the Sultan, an air of gravity and
soberness has clouded that confoundedly careless, devil-may-care
countenance of yours. I say with inward satisfaction, because, with