CHAPTER XVII A MOONLIGHT RIDE

Before a month had passed I was able to get about, and was soon as well and strong as ever. I gave my evidence before a full bench of the county magistrates, identified the man in custody, and gave descriptions in all cases but one sufficiently clear of the men who were still at large. The local papers had made a great stir about the whole affair, and when the court was over most of the magistrates came up to shake hands with me, and I found myself quite a celebrity. For a full month afterwards invitations to dinner and shooting parties came pouring in upon me, and Lady Olive was never tired of chaffing me about my reputed achievements. But the more friendly Lady Olive became, both with Marian and myself, the less we saw of Maud Devereux. I told myself that I was glad of it, but I was a hypocrite. More than once lately I had reined in my cob, and from a distance watched her riding home from a day's hunting, with Lord Annerley by her side, and had cursed him under my breath for an insolent puppy. Since the night when he had dined at Devereux Court he seemed to have taken a strong dislike to me. I had met him afterwards and nodded, and in return had received an insolent stare. At first I had been tempted to lay my riding-whip across his face, but I quoted Tennyson to myself instead and laughed—

"Scorn'd, to be scorn'd by one that I scorn,
    Is that a matter to make me fret?
That a calamity hard to be borne?
    Well, he may live to hate me yet."

And Lord Annerley did live to hate me, and before very long too, for one afternoon as I was riding home in the dusk I met Maud and him face to face at one of the entrances to the park. She bowed to me coldly, but Lord Annerley looked straight between his horse's ears without even acknowledging my salutation. Instantly she turned round to me.

"Mr. Arbuthnot."

I pulled the Black Prince on his haunches, and brought him round to her side.

"Are you not going our way? It is a long way round by the road unless you want to call in the village!"

I was too surprised to think of any excuse, so I turned my horse's head.

"Yes, I suppose the park's the shorter way. I ought to have remembered it for the Black Prince's sake," I remarked. "I'm afraid he's rather done up."

"I thought that you two had met," she said, turning to her companion. "Lord Annerley, you know Mr. Arbuthnot, do you not?"

He turned stiffly round towards me, with an angry flush on his cheek.

"Oh—ah—yes. How d'ye do, Arbuthnot?"

I sat bolt upright in my saddle, and looked steadily at Lord Annerley without returning his insolent greeting.

"My name is Arbuthnot, certainly," I said, coldly, "but your lordship will pardon my observing that I am not accustomed to hear it taken such liberties with."

I raised my hat to Miss Devereux, and digging spurs into Black Prince's side rode on ahead. But I had scarcely gone a quarter of a mile before I heard a single horse's hoofs close behind, and looking round saw Maud riding up to me alone. I reined in at once and waited for her.

She joined me without a word, and we walked our horses side by side in silence. There was a change in her face which puzzled me; a faint tinge of pink was colouring her cheeks, and a peculiar smile, half of amusement, half of satisfaction, parted slightly her lips. Her eyes she kept averted from me.

"Where is Lord Annerley?" I asked, suddenly.

"Gone home," she answered, demurely.

"I'm afraid I've spoilt your ride," I said. "I'm sorry."

"Not at all," she answered, still without looking at me. "You spoilt his, I think."

I answered nothing. I dared not. I felt that there was safety for me only in silence. And so we rode on, our horses' feet sinking silently into the short, green turf as we cantered slowly through the park. From behind the dark plantations on our right the moon had risen into a clear sky, and every now and then the Black Prince started and shied slightly at the grotesque shadows cast by the giant oak-trees under which we rode. Where they were thickest a few bats flew out and wheeled for a minute or two round our heads before disappearing in the opposite thickets.

"Are you afraid to talk to me, Mr. Arbuthnot, or can't you think of anything to say?" Maud suddenly asked.

The words which I intended to speak died away on my lips. A subtle power seemed to be struggling with my will and intoxicating my senses. I answered blindly—

"I am afraid to talk to you, Miss Devereux, because I have too much to say."

She turned round and looked at me, her deep blue eyes full of a half-inviting, half-mocking light which nearly drove me mad. She, at any rate, was quite at her case.

"Are you going to try and flirt with me, Mr. Arbuthnot?" she asked, lightly. "I am not Lady Olive."

Just then the Black Prince shied as we rode across the shadow of a gigantic oak-tree, and we were so close together that our horses' heads nearly touched. One of her shapely hands was hanging carelessly down, toying with her whip, and, scarcely knowing what I did, I caught hold of it and held it to my lips. She drew it away, but she might have drawn it away a second sooner had she chosen.

"You are a presumptuous boy," she said, looking at me with a curious, half-puzzled light in her glorious eyes. "If you don't behave yourself I shall begin to be sorry that I sent Lord Annerley away. He wouldn't have done such a stupid thing as that, I'm sure."

"He'd better not," I said, fiercely. She laughed mockingly. I would have given anything to have been able to keep back the words which were fast rising from my swelling heart to my lips, but I seemed to have lost all control over myself. A fatal, irresistible impulse was luring me on. "Maud——"

"Mr. Arbuthnot," with a stress upon the Mr.

I leaned over to her, and strove to look into her face, but she kept it turned from me. "Maud, dearest!"

She turned round suddenly, with a curious contradiction of expressions in her face. Her eyes still seemed to mock me with a delusive tenderness, but her lips were close set, and her head thrown proudly back.

"That is quite enough, Mr. Arbuthnot! Must I remind you again that I am not Lady Olive? I have never studied the art of flirting, and I don't think I'll begin with you. You're far too accomplished."

In vain I tried to analyse the look she threw me as she struck her horse sharply, and rode away from me. It was contemptuous and tender, angry and laughing, serious and mocking. I dug spurs into Black Prince's side; but he was done up, whilst she was on her second horse. It was not until we were actually in the shrubbery grounds that I caught her up.

"One word, Miss Devereux," I begged, riding up to her side, "you are not angry with me?"

She looked into my eager face and laughed a low mocking laugh, which maddened me to listen to. The moon was shining full upon her loose coils of fair hair and exquisite profile, bathing her in its silvery light, and making her look like a marvellous piece of statuary, perfectly beautiful, but cold as marble. My heart sank as I looked into her face, and I turned away in despair.

"Maud, you are a flirt," I cried.

"Mr. Arbuthnot," she replied, impressively, "people who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones."