"Three fishers--" and she sang the well-known song, and was delighted when Hemstead, for the first time, let out his rich, musical ba.s.s.

But before they had sung through the first stanza, Harcourt turned and said, "You must be still, or I can't manage the horses."

In fact, they were going at a tremendous pace, and Hemstead noted that Harcourt was nervous and excited. But no one apprehended any danger.

"How cold and distant the stars seem on a winter evening!" said Lottie, after a moment's silence. "It always depresses me to come out into the night after an evening of gayety and nonsense. There is a calm majesty about the heavens which makes my frivolity seem contemptible. The sky to-night reminds me of a serene, cold face looking at me in silent scorn. How fearfully far off those stars are; and yet you teach, do you not, Mr. Hemstead, that heaven is beyond them?"

"But that Limbo," added De Forrest, with a satirical laugh, "is right at hand in the centre of the earth."

"The real heaven, Miss Marsden," said Hemstead, gently, "is where there are happy, trusting hearts. Where the locality is I do not know. As to that nether world, if you know its location you know more than I do, Mr. De Forrest. I don't propose to have anything to do with it. Prisons may be a painful necessity, but we don't fear them or propose to go to them. On the same principle we need not trouble ourselves about G.o.d's prison house."

At this moment from an adjacent farm-house, a large dog came bounding out with clamorous barking. The excited horses were ready at the slightest provocation to run, and now broke into a furious gallop.

Harcourt sawed on the bits and shouted to them in vain. He was slight in build, and not very strong. Moreover, he had grown nervous and chilled and had lost his own self-control, and of course could not restrain the powerful creatures that were fast pa.s.sing from mere excitement into the wild terror which is akin to a panic among men when once they give way before danger.

"Good G.o.d!" exclaimed Harcourt, after a moment; "I can't hold them, and we are near the top of a long hill with two sharp turnings on the side of a steep bank, and there's a bridge at the bottom. Whoa!

curse you, whoa!"

But they tore on the more recklessly. Bel and Addie began to scream, and this increased the fright of the horses. Hemstead looked searchingly for a moment at Lottie, and saw with a thrill that her white face was turned to him and not to De Forrest.

"Is there danger?" she asked, in a low tone.

"Good G.o.d!" exclaimed Harcourt again, "I can't hold them."

Hemstead rose instantly, and turning with care in the swaying sleigh braced himself by planting one foot on the middle of the seat. He then said quietly, "Will you give me the reins, Mr. Harcourt? I am well braced and quite strong. Perhaps I can manage them."

Harcourt relinquished the reins instantly.

"Hush!" Hemstead said sternly to Addie and Bel, and they became quiet,--the weaker minds submitting to the roused and master mind.

Fortunately the trouble had occurred where there was a straight and level road, and a little of this still remained. The question with Hemstead was whether he could get control of the rushing steeds before they reached the hill.

CHAPTER XII.

MISS MARSDEN ASKS SOMBRE QUESTIONS.

Lottie Marsden, although greatly alarmed by their critical situation, was naturally too courageous to give way utterly to fear, and not so terrified but that she could note all Hemstead did; and for some reason she believed he would be equal to the emergency. His confidence, moreover, communicated itself to her. She saw that he did not jerk or saw on the reins at first, but, bracing his large powerful frame, drew steadily back, and that the horses yielded somewhat to his masterful grasp.

"Pull," cried Harcourt, excitedly; "you can hold them."

"Yes, jerk their cursed heads off," shouted De Forrest, in a way that proved his self-control was nearly gone.

"Hush, I tell you!" said Hemstead, in a low tone. "I might break the lines if I exerted my whole strength. Then where should we be?

I don't wish to put any more strain upon them than I must. See, they are giving in more and more."

"But the hill is near," said Harcourt.

"You must let me manage in my own way," said Hemstead. "Not another sound from any one."

Then in a firm tone, strong but quiet like his grasp upon the reins, he spoke to the horses. In three minutes more he had them prancing with many a nervous start, but completely under his control, down the first descent of the hill.

"Will you take the reins again?" he said to Harcourt.

"No, hang it all. You are a better horseman than I am."

"Not at all, Mr. Harcourt. I am heavier and stronger than you probably, and so braced that I had a great advantage. You had no purchase on them, and were chilled by long driving."

"Where did you learn to manage horses?" asked Lottie.

"On our Western farm. We had plenty of them. A horse is almost human: you must be very firm and very kind."

"Is that the way to treat the 'human'?" said Lottie, her bold and somewhat reckless spirit having so far recovered itself as to enable her to laugh.

"Yes, for a man, if he attempts to manage at all; but I suppose the majority of us are managed, if we would only acknowledge it. What chance has a man with a coaxing, clever woman?"

"Look there," said Harcourt, as they were turning the first sharp angle in the road to which he had referred. "Where should we have been if we had gone round this point at our speed when I held the reins?"

The steep embankment, with grim rocks protruding from the snow and with gnarled trunks of trees, was anything but inviting.

"Come, De Forrest," continued Harcourt, "brush up your mathematics.

At what angle, and with what degree of force, should we have swooped down there on a tangent, when the horses rounded this curve?"

"O-o-h!" exclaimed Lottie, looking shudderingly down the steep bank, at the bottom of which brawled a swift stream among ice-capped rocks. "It's just the place for a tragedy. We were talking about heaven and the other place when the horses started, were we not?

Perhaps we were nearer one or the other of them than we supposed."

"O, hush, Lottie!" cried Bel, still sobbing and trembling; "I wish we had remained at home."

"I echo that wish most decidedly," muttered De Forrest. "The whole evening has been like a nightmare."

"I am sorry my expedition has been a source of wretchedness to every one," said Lottie, coldly.

"Not every one, I'm sure," said Hemstead. "Certainly not to me. Besides, your expedition has made a pastor and a whole parish happy, and I also dimly foresee a seat in Congress for Harcourt as a result."

"Very dimly indeed," laughed Harcourt. "Still,--now that our necks are safe, thanks to Mr. Hemstead, I'm glad I went. Human nature lies on the surface out at Scrub Oaks, and one can learn much about it in a little while. Come, little coz, cheer up," he said to Addie, drawing her closer to him. "See, we are down the hill and across the bridge. No danger of the horses running up the long hill before us, and by the time they reach the top they will be glad to go the rest of the way quietly."

"You had better take the reins again, Mr. Harcourt," said Hemstead.

"O Mr. Hemstead, please drive," cried the ladies, in chorus.

"No," said he; "Mr. Harcourt is as good a driver as I am. It was only a question of strength before."