Most restless of all were a pair of handsome black steeds harnessed to a small sledge which contained seats for but two persons. They were the restive, high-spirited animals which had brought about the accident on Stag's Hill. Since then the Countess, having once been exposed by them to imminent peril, had constantly used other horses for her daily drives. Could she have chosen, the black pair would, indeed, long ago have been banished from the stables; but Edmund had a strong predilection for the beautiful creatures, which certainly were matchless in their symmetry and grace. He had given special orders that they should be put to his own sledge to-day. It was his habit to drive himself, and he now advanced, ready to take the reins from the groom's hands. All seemed ready for the start, yet some further delay occurred before the party actually set out. Some remark of Edmund's had called forth a debate, and much lively discussion was going on among the sportsmen. Evidently the pros and cons of a disputed question were being argued. A sound of loud voices and noisy laughter reached Oswald's ear as he stood at his post above, but the closed windows prevented his hearing the words used in the parley. The young Count was the most eager speaker. Some of the elder men present shook their heads and seemed to attempt dissuasion. At length a settlement was arrived at. All was made ready for the general departure, and Edmund mounted to his seat in the sledge. Strangely enough, he meant to drive alone. The place at his side remained unoccupied. At a sign from him the groom in attendance fell back, as he gathered up the reins and whip. One more look from the sportsmen--one farewell salute in the direction of the great entrance-door where stood the castle's future mistress. Edmund, like the rest, turned and waved her a final adieu, but immediately his eyes were raised to the tier of windows above. These were his mother's rooms, and the Countess must have appeared at this moment, for her son's gaze was riveted on a certain point. He sent her a greeting far warmer and more heartfelt than that he had accorded to his betrothed. There came a momentary break in the gaiety he had so sedulously maintained, a glimpse as of some wild, unutterable sorrow. That farewell glance seemed almost to convey a mute, beseeching appeal for pardon. Then his lash descended so sharply that the fiery steeds reared high in the air, and the snow rose up in a small whirlwind about him, as they set off at full gallop. The other sleighs followed, and so amid noise and merriment the whole retinue departed. Oswald turned from the window, struck by a sudden apprehension. 'That seemed like a farewell,' he murmured. 'What can it mean? What scheme can Edmund have in his head?' He left the drawing-room, and was quickly passing through the antechamber when he met Everard, the old retainer, who had just left the courtyard.