With many similar observations she resumed her walk, and presently reached the border of the ploughed land. Gilbert's back was towards her; he was on the descending furrow. She looked at him, started, suddenly lost her breath, and stood with open mouth and wide, fixed eyes. “HA-HA-A! HA-HA-A-A!” Loud and shrill her cry rang across the valley. It was like the yell of a war-horse, scenting the battle afar off. All the force of her lungs and muscles expended itself in the sound. The next instant she dropped upon the moist, ploughed earth, and sat there, regardless of gown and petticoat. “Good Lord!” she repeated to herself, over and over again. Then, seeing Gilbert approaching, startled by the cry, she slowly arose to her feet. “A good guess,” she said to herself, “and what's more, there's ways o' provin' it. He's comin', and he mustn't know; you're a fool, Betsy Lavender, not to keep your wits better about you, and go rousin' up the whole neighborhood; good look that your face is crooked and don't show much o' what's goin' on inside!” “What's the matter, Betsy?” asked Gilbert. “Nothin'--one o' my crazy notions,” she said. “I used to holler like a kildeer when I was a girl and got out on the Brandywine hills alone, and I s'pose I must ha' thought about it, and the yell sort o' come of itself, for it just jerked me off o' my feet; but you needn't tell anybody that I cut such capers in my old days, not that folks'd much wonder, but the contrary, for they're used to me.” Gilbert laughed heartily, but he hardly seemed satisfied with the explanation. “You're all of a tremble,” he said. “Am I? Well, it's likely,--and my gownd all over mud; but there's one favor I want to ask o' you, and no common one, neither, namely, the loan of a horse for a week or so.” “A horse?” Gilbert repeated. “A horse. Not Roger, by no means; I couldn't ask that, and he don't know me, anyhow; but the least rough-pacin' o' them two, for I've got considerable ridin' over the country to do, and I wouldn't ask you, but it's a busy time o' year, and all folks isn't so friendly.” “You shall have whatever you want, Betsy,” he said. “But you've heard nothing?”-- “Nothin' o' one sort or t'other. Make yourself easy, lad.” Gilbert, however, had been haunted by new surmises in regard to Dr. Deane. Certain trifles had returned to his memory since the interview, and rather than be longer annoyed with them, he now opened his heart to Miss Lavender. A curious expression came over her face. “You've got sharp eyes and ears Gilbert,” she said. “Now supposin' I wanted your horse o' purpose to clear up your doubts in a way to satisfy you, would you mind lettin' me have it?” “Take even Roger!” he exclaimed. “No, that bay'll do. Keep thinkin' _that's_ what I'm after, and ask me no more questions.”