A mile farther on there was a hill, up which the unlovely Apollo walked his horses. At the top of the hill was a clump of mimosa-bush, out of which, to the intense astonishment of both Ernest and Apollo, there emerged four mounted men with a led horse. One of these men was Jeremy; it was impossible to mistake his powerful form, sitting on his horse with the grip of a centaur. They rode up to the post-cart in silence. Jeremy motioned to Apollo to pull up. He obeyed, and one of the men dismounted and seized the horse’s head. “Tricked, by Heaven!” said Ernest. “You must come back with me, Ernest,” said Jeremy quietly. “I have a warrant for your arrest as a deserter, signed by the Governor.” “And if I refuse?” “Then my orders are to take you back.” Ernest drew his revolver. “This is a trick,” he said, “and I shall not go back.” “Then I must take you,” was the reply; and Jeremy coolly dismounted. Ernest’s eyes flashed dangerously, and he lifted the pistol. “O yes, you can shoot me if you like; but if you do, the others will take you;” and he continued to walk towards him. Ernest cocked his revolver and pointed it. “At your peril!” he said. “So be it,” said Jeremy, and he walked up to the cart. Ernest dropped his weapon. “It is mean of you, Jeremy,” he said. “You know I can’t fire at you.” “Of course you can’t, old fellow. Come, skip out of that! you are keeping the mail. I have a horse ready for you, a slow one; you won’t be able to run away on him.” Ernest obeyed, feeling rather small, and in half an hour was back at his own house. Mr. Alston was waiting for him. “Good-morning, Ernest,” he said, cheerfully. “Went out driving and come back riding, eh?” Ernest looked at him, and his brown cheek flushed. “You have played me a dirty trick,” he said. “Look here, my boy,” answered Mr. Alston, sternly, “I am slow at making a friend; but when once I take his hand I hold it till one of the two grows cold. I should have been no true friend to you if I had let you go on this fool’s errand, this wicked errand. Will you give me your word that you will not attempt to escape, or must I put you under arrest?” “I give you my word,” answered Ernest, humbled; “and I ask your forgiveness.” Thus it was that, for the first time in his life, Ernest tried to run away. That morning Jeremy, missing Ernest, went into his room to see what he was doing. The room was shuttered to keep out the glare of the sun: but when he got used to the light he discovered Ernest sitting at the table, and staring straight before him with a wild look in his eyes.