When we rose from supper I assisted my father in walking to his chair by the fire; for, though the weather was mild and spring-like, his blood was so impoverished that he felt the cold keenly. Then my cousin and myself strolled out of doors to the green lawn, below which Tweed ran low and silvery clear. I felt anger against him, yet not so much as I would have felt towards another man, had he used the same words; for I knew Gilbert to be of an absurd boasting nature, which made him do more evil than he had in his heart. Still my honour, or pride (call it what you please), was wounded, and I cast about me for some way to heal it. "Gilbert," I said, "we have both done much work to-day, so we are both about equally wearied." "Maybe," said he. "But your horse is fresh, and a good one, as I know; and you are a good horseman, as you say yourself. You had much to say about my poor horsemanship at supper. Will you try a race with me?" He looked at me scornfully for a minute. "Nay, there is little honour to be got from that. You knew the ground, and your horse, for all I know, may be swifter than mine. It was not of horses I spoke, but of the riders." "In the race which I offer you," I answered, "we will both start fair. Do you see yon rift in the hill beyond Scrape? It is the Red Syke, a long dark hole in the side of the hill. I have never ridden there, for the ground is rough and boggy, and I have never heard of a horseman there since Montrose’s rising. Will you dare to ride with me to yonder place and back?" At this my cousin’s face changed a little, for he had no liking for breaking his neck on the wild hills. And now, when I look back on the proposal, it seems a mad, foolhardy one in very truth. But then we were both young and spirited, and reckless of our lives. "Mount and ride," said he. "I’ll be there and back before you are half-road, unless, indeed, I have to carry you home." Together we went round to the stables, and I saddled a black horse of my father’s, for Maisie had already travelled far that day. The Weasel, we called him, for he was long and thin in the flanks, with a small head, and a pointed muzzle. He was viciously ill-tempered, and would allow no groom to saddle him; but before I had gone to Glasgow I had mounted and ridden him bareback up and down the channel of Tweed till he was dead-beat, and I half-drowned and shaken almost to pieces. Ever since this escapade he had allowed me to do what I liked with him; and, though I did not find him as pleasant to ride as the incomparable Maisie, yet I knew his great strength and alertness. My cousin’s horse was a good cavalry charger, strong, but, as I thought, somewhat too heavy in the legs for great endurance.