The Countess still hesitated--and Darby stepped confidently forward and
dropped his hand to put her up.

"Come, my lady," he said.

De Lacy made no move, nor spoke, but his eyes never left the Countess's
face. And she, if she felt any irritation at the awkward situation so
foolishly forced by Darby, concealed it completely and punished him
with a smiling face.

"You may put me on Selim, Lord Darby," she said. "He has carried me
part way home, and since he wishes it he shall carry me all the way."

Darby's dark face flushed and for a moment he drew back his hand in
refusal--then quickly offered it again. But the delay lost him the
favor; for De Lacy, seeing the opportunity, instantly presented his own
palm, and the Countess accepted it, and he swung her to his saddle.

Then she looked at Darby. "If you are very good," she said, with a
little laugh, "you may put me down at the castle."

And Darby laughed, too. "But you must give me time," he replied. "I
am not so nimble as Selim's master."

And so they made their way back to Pontefract, De Lacy walking beside
the Countess, and Lord Darby and Sir James Dacre following on horseback
just behind. Wilda had evidently got down the hill unhurt; in the soft
earth at its foot the deep marks of her running hoofs were very
evident; and a little way from the castle they came upon her, calmly
browsing beside the track. She had lost her bridle and her fright was