The next morning Adrienne determined to ride off and inquire for the stranger who had met with an accident. She said nothing about it to her aunt, and at eight o'clock was riding through the woods. She had just reached the end of them, when she met her cousin Guy. He was walking with a farmer, but directly he saw her, he stopped, and his companion walked on. "Where are you off to?" he inquired. "To Le Sourge. There are some English people living up there, and one of them has met with an accident. I met his sister coming down for help, and I want to know how he is." To her surprise, Guy's brows contracted fiercely. "I am sorry you have run across them," he said. "I must ask you to go no further." "But—but—" Adrienne looked her amazement, then she stiffened in her saddle: "Unless you have some very good reason, I mean to go on. It is only kind to do so." Guy's lips snapped together like steel. "I cannot permit you. You must take my word for it without demanding a reason." The colour rose in Adrienne's cheeks and the fire to her eyes. Never in her life had she been subjected to autocratic rule. "That I will not do," she said. "You have no right to dictate to me, Cousin Guy. Let me pass." His hand was on the bridle of her horse; he held the bit in an iron grip. "You are under my stepmother's care," he said; "and when she is unable to exercise her authority, I shall do so if necessary." He had turned her horse as he spoke and was leading it back through the pathway in the woods. For an instant Adrienne's temper rose high; she realized that if it came to a struggle she had the advantage. And yet the fear flashed through her that even on foot her cousin was more than a match for her. She could not resort to her riding switch. Dignity and pride forbade her to prolong the contest. With an exasperated laugh she said: "But this is absurd! You are treating me like a child. I don't want to quarrel with you. But you are exceeding your powers—as a cousin—we are not even properly related." "Thank goodness, no!" he ejaculated fervently. Again Adrienne looked her surprise. "You needn't lose your temper," she said; "it is I who should do that. And I have done it. I am very angry with you. I am not accustomed to being treated in such a manner. Will you kindly take your hand off my bridle?" "Not until I have your word that you will abandon this visit." "That I shall not give you, unless you give me a satisfactory reason for doing so." There was silence, but his hand still controlled her horse, and his face was set like adamant. "Cousin Guy, you are making yourself ridiculous. Do you think we're back in the mediaeval times when men managed women with high-handed tyranny? Do you think that your will is law? It is not to me, nor ever will be. If you prevent me going to Le Sourge this morning, I shall do so to-morrow, or at the first opportunity that comes. And you're only making yourself exceedingly unpleasant, for no just cause."