Mr. Rutledge still persisted in refusing permission, though, as I said, his tone was not alarming; not, for instance, as it had been last evening, when he called me in from the terrace. Though his face was perfectly serious, there was a look of smothered merriment about his mouth, that quite recalled the crayon sketch in my trunk. He was a good horseman, and no attitude could have been more advantageous to him than his present one, sitting easily and gracefully on his fine horse, and indicating with a turn of his head, the direction which he desired, nay, commanded me to take. We were just on the summit of a hill; the sunset was lighting up the woods behind, the road stretched smooth and broad before us. I turned my head us decidedly in that direction, saying: "There's another road turns off to the left of that bridge toward Rutledge, I know, for we drove there the other day; and it isn't more than two miles further. That's the way _I'm_ going home. 'They'll have fleet steeds that follow.'" And, touching Madge, I was off, without a look behind. It was, indeed some minutes before I turned around to see how near Mr. Rutledge might be; but what was my chagrin on finding myself alone, Michael only visible descending the hill at full speed. I paused to wait for him with ill-concealed impatience. "Where's your master, Michael?" "Gone back, miss." "Are you sure?" "Yes, miss. I think he's going home by way of the village, and that he's going to get the letters from the office on his way." "Couldn't we overtake him possibly?" "I'm afraid not, miss; we've got two miles further to go, and the horses are not as fresh as when we started, miss." That was a very palpable fact; indeed, both Michael's arguments seemed equally invincible; but I evaded them by exclaiming: "Isn't there any shorter way back to the village? Think quick, Michael, I know there must be." Michael thought, as quickly as he could, no doubt, but very slowly, it seemed to me. "Yes, Miss," he said, meditatively, after a moment's pause, "yes, Miss, there is another; but it's but a wild road for the like of you to be travelling--so late too." "Which way is it?" I said, with an impatient wave of the hand. "To the right, Miss, about a quarter of a mile further on; it strikes off through Hemlock Hollow. It's a lonesome road, though, Miss, and there may be one or two pairs of bars to take down before we get to the end." "You're sure, however, that you know the way, and that it's shorter?" I asked. Michael thought he was sure. "Then, my man, we'll try it; and keep as near to me as you can." And turning Madge's head, I gave her liberty to do her best. Michael had much ado, I fear, to keep in sight of me; but I cared very little for his guardianship, or indeed for any other circumstance or occurrence whatsoever, so long as I reached the village and the post-office before Mr. Rutledge quitted them.