river--altogether about as dangerous a place for a
canter as any one could choose. But he recalled immediately how
sure-footed the ponies of the district were, and thought no more of it
for a few moments. Then his face flushed as he remembered how Mark Eden
had galloped after him. Would it be he, and if so, now they were going
to meet again, would it be upon inimical terms, and with drawn swords?

His heart began to beat faster, and the next minute it was beating
faster still, for he caught sight, at a curve of the track, of the pony
and its burden, not Mark Eden, but a lady; and then his heart seemed to
stand still in his horror at seeing that she had lost control of the
spirited little animal, which was tearing along as hard as he could go.

The next minute it was nearly abreast of Ralph, who, without thinking of
the consequences of such an act, leaped at the rein, caught it, and was
dragged along some twenty yards, before, snorting and trembling, the
little animal, which he knew as Mark Eden's, stopped short, and began to
rear.

"Quick!" shouted the lad. "I can't hold him: try and slip off."

His words were heard by the frightened rider, but there was little need
to tell her to slip off, for the pony reared again, nearly upright, the
rider glided from the saddle over the animal's haunches, and fell
amongst the bushes by the track, while Ralph was dragged onward again.

It all occurred in a few moments, the pony stopped, reared again, made
another bound, dropped off the track, and, as Ralph loosed his hold,
rolled over and over down the steep slope right into the river with a
tremendous splash, which cooled it on the instant; and it regained its
feet, scrambled actively ashore, gave itself a shake, and then began to
graze, as if nothing was the matter.

"Mark Eden's sister," thought Ralph, as he hurriedly climbed back to the
track, where, looking wild and scared, Mary Eden had just regained her
feet, and was standing trembling.

"Are you hurt?" he cried aloud.

"Yes, dreadfully. No: I don't think so. Only scratched," she replied,
half-crying. "I couldn't stop him. He hasn't been out lately. He ran
away with me. What shall I do?" she sobbed now. "Mark will be so
angry. Is his pony much hurt?"

"Oh, never mind the pony," cried Ralph, taking her hand. "Here, let me
help you to Master Rayburn's."

"But I do mind about the pony," cried the girl angrily. "It doesn't
matter about me. Do you think he