“No; I'll hold the reins till you get them. And, porter, I leave this
horse with Miss Dalton, since she won't dismount. You see that he's
well taken care of.”
“Yes, Sir.”
The captain, while speaking, had reached out his arm to take Edith's
reins, but she turned her horse's head, and he missed them. The porter
saw this movement, and sprang forward. Edith pulled the reins. Her
horse reared. Wild with excitement, and seeing the gates open before
her, and the road beyond, Edith struck at the porter with her whip over
his face, and then drove her horse at the open gates. The horse sprang
through like the wind. The porter shrieked after her. She was on the
road. She was free!
No--not free!
Not free, for after her there came the thundering tramp of another
horse. It was Mowbray in pursuit.
His horse was far better than hers. He gained on her step by step.
Nearer and nearer he came. He was behind her; he was abreast of her
before she had ridden a quartet of a mile. The tower of the village
church was already in sight, when suddenly a strong hand was laid on her
reins.
In her frenzy Edith struck that hand again and again with the heavy butt
of her riding-whip, but it did not loosen its grasp. Her horse stopped.
“Curse you!” roared Mowbray to Edith, while his face was livid with
passion and pain, “I'll kill you!” and seizing her whip hand, he
wrenched the whip out of it.
Edith was silent.
Mowbray said no more. He turned her horse and led it back. Edith
looked around wildly. Suddenly, as they came near the gates, the
intolerable thought of her renewed imprisonment maddened her, and the
liberty which she had so nearly gained roused her to one more effort;
and so, with a start, she disengaged herself and leaped to the ground.
Mowbray saw it, and, with a terrible oath, in an instant leaped down and
gave chase. The horses ran forward and entered the gates.
Edith held up her long skirts and ran toward the village. But again
Mowbray was too much for her. He overtook her, and seizing her by the
wrist, dragged her back.
Edith shrieked for help at the top of her voice. Mowbray looked
fiercely around, and seeing no one, he took his handkerchief and bound
it tightly around her month. Then, overcome by despair, Edith's
strength gave way. She sank down. She made no more resistance. She
fainted.
Mowbray raised her in his arms, and carried her into the porter's lodge.
The gates were then locked.
* * * * *
CHAPTER XVIII.
A STRANGE CONFESSION.
Edith came to herself in the porter's lodge. Her re-awakened eyes, in
looking up confusedly, saw the hateful face of Mowbray bending over her.
At once she realized the horror of her position, and all the incidents
of her late adventure came vividly before her mind. Starting up as
quickly as her feeble limbs would allow, she indignantly motioned him
away.
Mowbray, without a word, stepped back and looked down.
Edith staggered to her feet.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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