another minute was riding with a fast
beating heart towards Morton Hall.

CHAPTER XXXI

TO THE RESCUE

For the first mile I rode almost without heeding the direction I was
taking, or thinking of what was the best way to proceed.

My mind was too full of terror. Perhaps even then Wilfred with his
devilish cunning was weaving a net from which my darling could not
escape. Aided by the villain with whom he had been so friendly, he
might destroy my happiness for ever. And so, unthinkingly, I allowed
the mare to carry me whither she would. It did not matter, however.
By a strange instinct, which I am sure some animals possess, she seemed
to divine the road I wanted to go, and plunged forward joyfully.

I was no light weight to carry. It is true that the past year's sorrow
had worn me very much, so that there was but little flesh on my great,
gaunt frame; but I still weighed nine score pounds, and thus would tire
any horse that had to carry me a long distance. I could not have
ridden a more noble animal, however; I think she united all the
qualities of strength and speed, and tore along the road as though she
felt my weight no more than if I had been a feather. It was but little
I had done in riding during the eleven years I had been away, but I
found I had not lost my old skill, and soon I was able to bring Black
Bess into entire subjection, and settled down into a good swinging trot.

I longed to gallop the gallant animal all the way, so anxious was I to
reach Morton Hall; but I knew that she could not hold out at such a
speed, so I patted her neck and gave her a few kind, caressing words,
at which she whinnied a little and tossed her head proudly, as if to
tell me she was prepared to go as fast as I liked.

Thirty-five miles. It was a long stretch of land, and difficult to
cover quickly. In most places it was very hilly, which would often
check our speed. I calculated, however, to get to Morton village in
four hours. It was just after two o'clock when we started; by six we
should get there if nothing was amiss. It was in the month of October,
so that the day would be nearly gone ere I should see the old village
church, which a year before had been the scene of such a wonderful
event.

After riding an hour I was able to think more clearly, and to form some
idea as to the steps I should take. I remembered that I had a cunning,
unscrupulous man to deal with, one who, in his disappointment and
jeal