they pulled up their horses on
the hard road.

"I think I am 'fey' now," she said. "I wonder what is going to happen
to me?"

"Whatever misfortunes come to you henceforth will be your own fault,"
protested Rorie savagely. "You won't be happy, or make me so."

"Don't be angry with me, Rorie," she answered quite meekly. "I would
rather be miserable in my own way than happy in yours."

Arion, having galloped for his own pleasure, would now have liked to
crawl. He was beginning to feel the effects of unusual toil, and hung
his head despondently; but Vixen urged him into a sharp trot, feeling
that matters were growing desperate.

Ten minutes later they were at the lodge leading to the stables. The
gate was locked, the cottage wrapped in darkness.

"I must go in by the carriage-drive," said Vixen. "It's rather a bore,
as I am pretty sure to meet Captain Winstanley. But it can't be helped."

"Let me go in with you."

"No, Rorie; that would do no good. If he insulted me before you, his
insolence would pain me."

"And I believe I should pain him," said Rorie. "I should give him the
sweetest horsewhipping he ever had in his life."

"That is to say you would bring disgrace upon me, and make my mother
miserable. That's a man's idea of kindness. No, Rorie, we part here.
Good-night, and--good-bye."

"Fiddlesticks!" cried Rorie. "I shall wait for you all to-morrow
morning at the kennels."

Vixen had ridden past the open gate. The lodge-keeper stood at his door
waiting for her. Roderick respected her wishes and stayed outside.

"Good-night," she cried again, looking back at him; "Bates shall come
to you to-morrow morning."

The hall-door was wide open, and Captain Winstanley stood on the
threshold, waiting for his stepdaughter. One of the underlings from the
stable was ready to take her horse. She dismounted unaided, flung the
reins to the groom, and walked up to the Captain with her firmest step.
When she was in the hall he shut the door, and bolted and locked it
with a somewhat ostentatious care. She seemed to breathe less freely
when that great door had shut out the cool night. She felt as if she
were in a jail.

"I should like half-a-dozen words with you in the drawing-room before
you go upstairs," Captain Winstanley said stiffly.

"A hundred, if you choose," answered Vixen, with supreme coolness.

She was utterly fearless. What risks or hazards had life that she need
dread? She hoped nothing--feared nothing.