“You are holding the reins twisted Miss Hazlehurst,” he said; “let me arrange them for you.” As he restored the reins properly placed to her grasp, somehow their fingers became interlaced, and Harry appeared unable to disentangle his for some seconds; during which space of time, Alice, blushing and turning away her head, murmured imploringly-- “You _will_ not ride that creature!” “Your father will never be convinced that the brute is unsafe for you unless he sees it in its true colours; besides, I dare say I shall have no trouble in getting it past the barrow--there is a quiet way of doing these things,” was the confident reply. Alice still sought to remonstrate, but in vain; for pressing her delicate fingers as though he were loath to relinquish them, Coverdale turned away with a gay smile, and placing his toe in the stirrup, vaulted lightly to his saddle. Having waited till Mr. Hazlehurst and his daughter had ridden on a short distance, Harry put his horse in motion, and prepared to follow them; but the moment it caught sight of the alarming wheelbarrow, it again stopped short, and attempted to repeat its former manœuvre. Willing to try mild measures first, Coverdale, although he prevented the animal from dashing round as it had done when it unseated Alice, allowed it to turn, and riding it back a few paces, gave it time to compose its excited feelings, ere he again brought it up to the object of its fear. As it approached the spot he kept it tightly in hand, and, when it began to waver, stimulated its flagging resolution by the most delicate hint imaginable from his “armed heel.” The instant it felt the spur, it swerved aside, dashed round, and as soon as its head was turned in a homeward direction, evinced an unmistakable desire to bolt. Harry’s brow grew dark. “Lend me your whip,” he said, approaching the servant, who sat grinning with the satisfaction usually displayed by professional horsemen on witnessing the discomfiture of an amateur rider--more especially if the amateur happen to be a gentleman. “You be too good-natured with him, Mr. Coverdale; you should give it him hot and strong, sir. But law! that hanimal ain’t fit for ladies and gentlemen; he wants a reglar sharp rough-rider on his back, that’ll take the nonsense out of him, he do.” “Your whip is too light; get down and cut me a good, tough ash stick out of the hedge there. I will hold your horse,” was the only reply Harry vouchsafed. The man glanced at his face in surprise, and seeing that he was in earnest, hastened to execute his wishes, returning in two or three minutes with a couple of plants of ground-ash, about the thickness of a finger. Having carefully examined these, Harry selected the one he considered the most serviceable. The groom watched him narrowly. “So you really means business, eh, sir?” he said. “I do,” was the concise reply, as, with compressed lips and flashing eyes, Harry turned and rode off.