It had so happened the day of that memorable drive and catastrophe that Sandy Ray, dismounting to the aid of Mrs. Dwight, whose slender and lovely form lay huddled by the roadside, while Priscilla and the ponies started on their circuit, had given no thought to his own steed, which fact enabled that inconsiderate brute to trot away homeward. Then when Inez came to herself (though not to her senses, else would she have said such shocking things when Priscilla was within earshot?) there arose a question of transportation. It was only four miles to the fort, but in his still somewhat crippled condition that was far for Sandy to walk. It was characteristic of Priscilla that she should promptly suggest her driving Mrs. Dwight home at once; then, if need be, sending Hogan back with the horse. Priscilla herself was a famous pedestrian, priding herself on sometimes "footing" it to and from town, but never once did Priscilla now suggest that Sandy drive Mrs. Dwight or Mrs. Dwight drive Sandy. Priscilla, indeed, behaved with some little asperity as well as impatience when she assured Mrs. Dwight that she had the ponies now under complete control, and all Mrs. Dwight had to do was to get in at once. But this required Sandy's aid and encircling arm. Then when Inez was fairly in her reclining seat, she could not release the hand. "But surely _you_ are coming? Your horse is gone! What--walk, Miss Sanford? Indeed, he shall not, and after having carried poor me all that distance." (For a woman in a dead faint Inez was oddly alive to what had been going on.) "You are coming right in here, Mr. Ray!" and she edged vigorously over against the stout structured Priscilla in determined effort to make room for Sandy beside her. So there he rode, saying very little, but tumultuously thinking, Heaven only knows what, for Inez had then eyes, ears, aye--lips, had he dared--only for him. She nestled close and confiding in the arm trembling about her slender shoulders. He felt the contact of her rounded form. His head was in a whirl, his heart was in a tumult, when at last Priscilla reined in at the major's gate, and again Sandy had almost to carry the lovely burden up the major's steps and, with one, long, melting gaze from her glorious eyes, with five murmured words from her exquisite, parted, passionate lips, with a thrilling pressure from both her little hands, he delivered her into the waiting arms of Félicie, to become again a limp and prostrate being, to require at once her handmaid's best services--and champagne. The quantity of Pommery Sec consumed in that house during the major's confinement thereto, said Félicie afterwards, was, _o ciel_, of the most incredible!