can go like the wind. Shall we let them out?”
The boy was off on the great racking horse, with a glance and a wave over his shoulder. Bracken tightened his knees and Sunbeam followed her stable-mate, her mane streaming. They pounded down the slope and through a wooded patch and came to a low stone wall which Thunderbolt took like a bird with Sunbeam close behind.
“Hi!” yelled Bracken. “Ought you tojump him?”
The only answer was another wave of the boy’s hand, and the wild canter went on, across a field, over a brook, into another grassy lane and straight at a five-bar gate. There was some kind of fumble, Thunderbolt pecked badly, hit the top rail hard, and fell on the landing side, throwing his rider clear.
Bracken pulled up, rather cold around the stomach, and leaped out of the saddle, vaulted the gate, and ran towards the small tweed figure on the ground. The cap had fallen off, revealing two plaitsof hair, reddish gold, which had been pinned up under it. The child was a girl.
She sat up slowly before he reached her, and her face was white and scared as she glanced round for her horse.
“Are you all right?” Bracken dropped to one knee beside her. “You must have tried to lift him too soon. It was a damn-fool thing to do, anyway. Are you all right?”
“It doesn’t matter about me. Get Thunderbolt up and see if he’s hurt.”
Bracken laid anxious hands on her, feeling the sharp little bones through the tweed jacket.
“But are you sure—”
“Edward will kill me if I’ve lamed his horse. Please get him up—”
Bracken went to Thunderbolt and at the second attempt the big horse got to his feet and stood breathing rather hard, with one foreleg bent at the knee.
“Look at his off-fore!” she gasped, still sitting where she had fallen, braced on one arm, watching them. “Oh, what will Edward say!”
“Probably only sprained.” Bracken ran an expert hand down to the fetlock and the horse nuzzled his shoulder inquiringly.
“He wants to be friends!” she said in surprise. “He doesn’t always take to people. You know horses, don’t you?”
“A little. He’ll be all right in a few days, I think.” He came back to her and knelt down beside her on the ground. “How about you, now? Lucky you didn’t break your neck.”
“Edward says I’m bound to some day. They keep saying I’m too young to hunt with them and then they say I’m too old to ride astride, and I don’t really know where I am. These are my brother Gerald’s shooting clothes. He’s quarantined at school with measles and can’t come home for Easter. Bad luck, isn’t it?”
Bracken sat back on his heels, looking at her. His face was very still, as though he listened to something a long way off. When he spoke his voice was low, as though someone near by was asleep.
“Frightful luck. How old are you?”
“I shall be sixteen soon.”
“Do you often do things like this? You’re practically a young lady now, you know.”
There was not a trace of coquetry or female awareness in the troubled glance she gave him. She was somehow neither child nor maiden, sexless, ageless, and remote in her odd clothes, like a choirboy’s voice. He thought he had never seen so unspoilt a creature, as lacking in self-consciousness as a bird. She had thick, upward-curving eyelashes, golden like her hair. Her mouth was perfect,with long, coral-tinted lips, each exactly the same width, closing lightly, with a slight droop at the corners—not a merry mouth.
“That’s what Miss French thinks. She’s my governess,” she was saying.
“Miss French is dead right for once in her life. It won’t do, you know, you’ll have to give it up. Promise?”
“Just for fear I’ll break my neck?”
“Let’s say—just to please me,” he suggested carefully.” And Miss French, of course.” While inside him something raised a deafening shout: Because you’re mine , because you’re what I’ve been trying to find, because if anything
The boy was off on the great racking horse, with a glance and a wave over his shoulder. Bracken tightened his knees and Sunbeam followed her stable-mate, her mane streaming. They pounded down the slope and through a wooded patch and came to a low stone wall which Thunderbolt took like a bird with Sunbeam close behind.
“Hi!” yelled Bracken. “Ought you tojump him?”
The only answer was another wave of the boy’s hand, and the wild canter went on, across a field, over a brook, into another grassy lane and straight at a five-bar gate. There was some kind of fumble, Thunderbolt pecked badly, hit the top rail hard, and fell on the landing side, throwing his rider clear.
Bracken pulled up, rather cold around the stomach, and leaped out of the saddle, vaulted the gate, and ran towards the small tweed figure on the ground. The cap had fallen off, revealing two plaitsof hair, reddish gold, which had been pinned up under it. The child was a girl.
She sat up slowly before he reached her, and her face was white and scared as she glanced round for her horse.
“Are you all right?” Bracken dropped to one knee beside her. “You must have tried to lift him too soon. It was a damn-fool thing to do, anyway. Are you all right?”
“It doesn’t matter about me. Get Thunderbolt up and see if he’s hurt.”
Bracken laid anxious hands on her, feeling the sharp little bones through the tweed jacket.
“But are you sure—”
“Edward will kill me if I’ve lamed his horse. Please get him up—”
Bracken went to Thunderbolt and at the second attempt the big horse got to his feet and stood breathing rather hard, with one foreleg bent at the knee.
“Look at his off-fore!” she gasped, still sitting where she had fallen, braced on one arm, watching them. “Oh, what will Edward say!”
“Probably only sprained.” Bracken ran an expert hand down to the fetlock and the horse nuzzled his shoulder inquiringly.
“He wants to be friends!” she said in surprise. “He doesn’t always take to people. You know horses, don’t you?”
“A little. He’ll be all right in a few days, I think.” He came back to her and knelt down beside her on the ground. “How about you, now? Lucky you didn’t break your neck.”
“Edward says I’m bound to some day. They keep saying I’m too young to hunt with them and then they say I’m too old to ride astride, and I don’t really know where I am. These are my brother Gerald’s shooting clothes. He’s quarantined at school with measles and can’t come home for Easter. Bad luck, isn’t it?”
Bracken sat back on his heels, looking at her. His face was very still, as though he listened to something a long way off. When he spoke his voice was low, as though someone near by was asleep.
“Frightful luck. How old are you?”
“I shall be sixteen soon.”
“Do you often do things like this? You’re practically a young lady now, you know.”
There was not a trace of coquetry or female awareness in the troubled glance she gave him. She was somehow neither child nor maiden, sexless, ageless, and remote in her odd clothes, like a choirboy’s voice. He thought he had never seen so unspoilt a creature, as lacking in self-consciousness as a bird. She had thick, upward-curving eyelashes, golden like her hair. Her mouth was perfect,with long, coral-tinted lips, each exactly the same width, closing lightly, with a slight droop at the corners—not a merry mouth.
“That’s what Miss French thinks. She’s my governess,” she was saying.
“Miss French is dead right for once in her life. It won’t do, you know, you’ll have to give it up. Promise?”
“Just for fear I’ll break my neck?”
“Let’s say—just to please me,” he suggested carefully.” And Miss French, of course.” While inside him something raised a deafening shout: Because you’re mine , because you’re what I’ve been trying to find, because if anything
Similar Books
