ive a more efficacious flick, she got the lash
ignominiously entangled in the harness. There was nothing for it but
to pull up, and for Aveline to climb laboriously from the trap, and
release the much-knotted piece of string. Rendered more careful by
this catastrophe, Raymonde wielded her whip with caution, and gave
what encouragement she could by jerking the reins vigorously, and
occasionally ejaculating an energetic "Go on, Dandy!" The pony,
however, was a cunning little creature, and, knowing perfectly well
that he was in amateur hands, took full advantage of the situation.
Under the excuse of a very slight hill he reduced his pace to a crawl,
and began to crop succulent mouthfuls of grass from the hedge-bank, as
a means of combining pleasure with business. It was only by judicious
proddings with the butt-end of the whip that he could be induced to
hasten his steps.

In spite of the difficulties with Dandy, the drive was enjoyable. The
country was very pretty, for they were nearing the hills, and the
landscape was more diversified than in the immediate neighbourhood of
the camp. They passed through a beech wood, where the sun was glinting
through leaves as transparent and delicate as fairies' wings.

"I feel like primeval man to-day," said Aveline. "The wander fever is
on me, and I want to see fresh things."

"We shall be in Ledcombe soon."

"I don't mean towns; it's something much subtler--different fields,
unexplored woods, a new piece of river, or even a patch of grass with
flowers I haven't found before."

"I know," agreed Raymonde. "It's the feeling one had when one was
small, and read about how the youngest prince set out into the great
wide world to seek his fortune. I always envied him."

"Or the knights-errant--they had a splendid time roaming through the
forest, and tilting a spear against anyone who was ready for single
combat. One might lead a very merry life yet, like Robin Hood and his
band, in the 'good greenwood', though we shouldn't be 'hunting the
King's red deer'."

"It was pretty much like camp life, I dare say, only a little rougher
than ours. More like the gipsy diggings."

"Talking of gipsies, I believe you've conjured them up. That looks
like a caravan over there. I expect it is some more of the tribe
coming to pick strawberries."

The gipsies, collected in a group in the roadway, were loudly
bewailing a catastrophe, for their horse had just fallen down dead.
Until they could obtai