st countenance which Nature had
blessed, or banned, however one may regard unusual beauty.

A deep furrow was immediately visible on Major Dudley's forehead,
indenting his brow just above his nose. It only came when he was angry,
or intensely worried. His gray eyes gleamed with subdued resentment, and
for the space of a few steps he did not answer.

"We do not know," he said, then, but he kept his eyes set straight
ahead, instead of looking at his questioner.

"But you have suspicions, daddy, dear," she pleaded, coming closer to
him, and pressing his arm gently. "Have you a right--have you the wish
to keep these from me? Am I not Major Dudley's daughter, and is not your
blood my blood? The Prince has been very sick. Corn and hay don't make a
horse ill. What do you fear, daddy?"

The old man stopped and faced his daughter. She was quite serious now.
Her firm chin, her positive but pliant mouth, her deep brown eyes which
showed courage, and the waving wealth of her chestnut hair, all made a
quick pride rush to the Major's heart, and brought a satisfied smile to
his mouth. His stern eyes melted into tenderness and love.

"My child, you shall know all I know; all I suspect, rather, for nothing
is positive. We--Peter and I--fear an attempt has been made to poison
The Prince."

"_Daddy!_"

The word struggled through an indrawn breath of horror.

"The horse's symptoms indicated this. Peter found him in time for an
antidote which he administered to be beneficial, else I fear we would
have lost him. We examined the feed which had been given him last
night, and found some of it mixed with a whitish powder. In view of this
we could come to only one conclusion."

"Who--"

The sentence which the girl's lips started to frame died with the first
word. Her lips met firmly, and a slow dread gathered in her eyes.

From the highway not far off came the sound of a horse's hoofs, running
at full speed. The Major was facing the road, and the girl turned to see
a horseman dash furiously along the pike and disappear behind a fringe
of trees which bordered the road farther on. Julia turned to her father,
and saw written plainly upon his face a confirmation of her fears.

"He?" she breathed, awesomely.

"Or an emissary. He is our only enemy, and in all his stable of
thoroughbreds he has not one that can approach The Prince!"

"Would he dare?"

"Anything, little girl.--Come."

At the door of The Prince's stall they stopped, an