Harry did as he was bid, and found his tutor’s broad back and strong arms a very comfortable saddle. So away they went, wandering about for a long time, in their new relation of horse and his rider. At length they got into the middle of a long narrow avenue, quite neglected, overgrown with weeds, and obstructed with rubbish. But the trees were fine beeches, of great growth and considerable age. One end led far into a wood, and the other towards the house, a small portion of which could be seen at the end, the avenue appearing to reach close up to it. “Don’t go down this,” said Harry. “Well, it’s not a very good road for a horse certainly, but I think I can go it. What a beautiful avenue! Why is it so neglected?” “Don’t go down there, please, dear horse.” Harry was getting wonderfully at home with Hugh already. “Why?” asked Hugh. “They call it the Ghost’s Walk, and I don’t much like it. It has a strange distracted look!” “That’s a long word, and a descriptive one too,” thought Hugh; but, considering that there would come many a better opportunity of combating the boy’s fears than now, he simply said: “Very well, Harry,”—and proceeded to leave the avenue by the other side. But Harry was not yet satisfied. “Please, Mr. Sutherland, don’t go on that side, just now. Ride me back, please. It is not safe, they say, to cross her path. She always follows any one who crosses her path.” Hugh laughed; but again said, “Very well, my boy;” and, returning, left the avenue by the side by which he had entered it. “Shall we go home to luncheon now?” said Harry. “Yes,” replied Hugh. “Could we not go by the front of the house? I should like very much to see it.” “Oh, certainly,” said Harry, and proceeded to direct Hugh how to go; but evidently did not know quite to his own satisfaction. There being, however, but little foliage yet, Hugh could discover his way pretty well. He promised himself many a delightful wander in the woody regions in the evenings.