narrow cross-country track, little used except by horsemen pressed for
time. Now, clear through the still afternoon, a sound of hoofs gave
warning that riders were coming down the steep and dangerous hill
beyond the turn. Unity looked up with interest, and Fairfax Cary paused
with his hand upon a coral bough. Suddenly there was a change in the
beat, then a frightened shout, and a sound of rolling stones and a wild
clatter of hoofs. Unity sprang to her feet; Cary came down the bank at a
run, tossed her his armful of blossoms, and was in the middle of the
road in time to seize by the bridle the riderless horse which came
plunging around the bend.

Fairfax Cary was strong, the black horse not quite mad with terror, and
the man mastered the brute. "Whose is he?" he asked. "If you will hold
him--he is quite quiet now--I will go see."

A negro came panting around the turn. "Gawd-a-moughty, marster! did you
cotch dat horse? You, Selim, I's gwine lam' you, I's gwine teach you er
lesson--dancin' roun' on yo' two foots 'cause you sees er scrap of
paper! R'arin' an' pitchin' an' flingin' white folks on er heap of
stones! I'll larn you! Yo' marster was a-dreamin', or you'd never
th'owed him! You jes wait twel I git you home! Marse Fairfax Cary, dis
debbil done th'owed my marster, an' he lyin' by de roadside, an' I don'
know whether he live or daid!"

"I know you now," exclaimed the younger Cary. "You're Mr. Lewis Rand's
servant. Hadn't you better stay here, Miss Dandridge, until I see what
really is the matter? Here, boy, stop chattering your teeth! Your
master's not killed. Was it at the top of the hill?"

"Halfway down, Marse Fairfax, whar de footpath goes down through de