mystery of heaven over the forest paths, the trees, the streets of the
town; and she melted into a sweet and noble human face--a face I caught
but for a moment clearly on one of our galloping rides, Quinet's and
mine; yet it remained and still looks upon me in the holy of holies of
my heart's inner chapel.

"What a rare autumn! What perfect foliage! What cool weather!" Quinet
had wakened up beyond my expectations, and soon we were racing along,
laughing and shouting repartees at each other. We reined in at last to a
walk.

"Mehercle, be Charon propitious to thee when thy soul meets him at the
river in Hades," he cried. "Be he propitious to thee, Chamilly, for
making me a horseman!"

Then the memorable picture;--we speeding along that bit of road in the
Park, the Mountain-side towering precipitously above us on the left and
sloping below us in groves on the right; our horses galloping faster and
faster; our dash into a bold rocky cutting; our consternation!--a young
maiden picking up autumn leaves within two yards before our galloping
horses! Near by, I remember quite clearly now her companion, and not far
off the carriage with golden-bay horses.

"Stop!" I shouted.

Even as I shouted, I was already past her, and the brush of Quinet's
horse flying as near on the other side of her, snatched off her bouquet
of autumn leaves and strewed them in a cloud. Thank God only that we had
not gone over her! The peril was frightful. My horse had had his head
down and I could not pull him up.