Barbara Ladd

by Sir Charles G. D. Roberts

  CHAPTER XVII.

  The road toward Westings Landing, which was the shortest way to GaultHouse, was joined about a mile out by another, equally rough andunfriendly to travel, coming from Westings Centre. Robert had passedthis junction at full gallop, but a few rods beyond a stretch of mirecompelled him to rein in and pick his way. As he did so he caught asound of beating hoofs behind him, and turned in the saddle to see whocame.

  Careering recklessly down the road from Westings Centre, her blackcurls flying from beneath the rim of her little white beaver, came aslim figure in a black habit on a great black horse. She burst into apeal of laughter as Robert turned, and cried, gaily:

  "I'm coming. Wait for me, Robert!"

  Robert wheeled his horse as if on a pivot, fairly lifted him with voiceand spur, and was with her in a few great strides.

  "You!" was all his voice could say; but his face said so much more thatthe greeting did not seem curt to Barbara. Her small face was radiantwith excitement, audacity, and delight. At the beginning of the miryground she reined in, patted her beast's wet neck, and said,breathlessly:

  "I thought you might like me to ride a little way with you, Robert, tomake sure of your getting the right road. Wasn't it very nice ofme,--when you don't one bit deserve any such attention?"

  "You are an angel!" cried Robert, in an ecstasy.

  Barbara laughed clear and high at this.

  "_Oh!_" she shrilled, melodiously derisive, "that's what _I_ think Iam, of course. But no one has ever agreed with me after knowing memore than three days. This is your third day, Robert. It's well forme you're going while you labour under this flattering delusion."

  "It's no delusion," averred Robert, stoutly, far past wit, and with noweapon left but bluntness. "You are the loveliest thing in the world."

  This, in Barbara's own opinion, was nonsense. But she liked to hearhim say it, nonsense or not. She pondered for a moment, her faceturned away indifferently, that he might not see she was pleased.

  "You contradict yourself," she retorted. "You know angels are not inthe world!"

  "One is!" said Robert.

  "I like you so much better, Robert, when you're saying clever thingslike that," said Barbara, patronisingly, "than when you are juststupid, and don't do anything but just look at me, as you do sometimes!"

  She was too young to know that when a man can be witty with a woman heis not, at the moment, so engrossed in her but that he is able to thinkof himself.

  Before Robert could reply they were past the miry ground, and Barbarahad once more set her black horse at the gallop. The sorrel needed nourging to follow,--and indeed, for a few minutes both riders were fullyoccupied in preventing the ride from degenerating into a headlong race,so emulous were the two horses. The road was still very bad, brokenwith ruts, holes, and boulders, and the pace was therefore full ofperil. The black just escaped plunging his fore legs into a bog-hole,and the narrowness of the escape seemed to make him lose nerve. Robertsaw with anxiety that Barbara, though her horsemanship equalled hercanoeing, was just now in a far too reckless mood.

  "Wait, please, my dear lady," he begged. "This is no road for fastriding. That good beast of yours just escaped a bad fall, and he's abit nervous. Let's walk them till we get to better ground."

  But Barbara had not noticed her escape, and she was thrilling withexhilaration. She did not know how beside herself she was.

  "If you're afraid, follow at your own pace!" she cried, mockingly."_I_ came out to _ride_!" And with a wild word of encouragement to theblack, and a throwing forward of the reins upon his neck, she shot onat full speed.

  "I _beg_ you don't be so reckless!" cried Robert. "You will get a badfall riding this way on such a road!" There was intensest anxiety inhis voice, but the faintest tinge of reproof went with it, as Barbara'ssensitive pride was quick to discern.

  "I shall ride as recklessly as I please," said she. "But don't letthat trouble you. Be careful if you like. Ride like an old woman ifyou like!"

  This taunt did not touch Robert, as he knew the quality of his ownhorsemanship,--which, indeed, Barbara's attentive eyes had been quickto note. But the mood it betrayed alarmed and half angered him. Hesaw in fancy that fleeing, daring, wayward little figure stretchedlifeless on the roadside, the radiant face white and still. His ownface paled and his jaw set obstinately as he urged forward his bigsorrel in silence.

  The new horse proved worthy of Narragansett fame. Over the worstground his peculiar pace carried him with an ease which the big black'sheavy tread could not match. And when the ground was firmer, and hecould stretch out at full run, he soon closed up the gap betweenhimself and his rival. This nettled Barbara, who thought her BlackPrince a record-breaker; and she even went so far as to wave herriding-crop, as if she might be inclined to use it on this beast, whichhad never felt the whip. Nevertheless, the heavy hoof-beats behindcrept closer; and soon the sorrel's nose was at her stirrup; and thenRobert's stirrup and his knee were level with her own,--and with aquick sidelong glance she caught the grim resolve on his dark face.She was feeling by this time the least bit ashamed of herself, andawaking to the risks of the road, so she said, sweetly:

  "That's a _splendid_ horse of yours, Robert. And you can ride!"

  "Thank you, Mistress Barbara!" said Robert, unmollified. And just thenthe road straightened out, a stretch of hard, dry level, inviting tothe loose rein and the unchecked run.

  "There's no danger _here_, Master Careful!" cried Barbara.

  "No, not here,--except branches!" acknowledged Robert, drawing a deepbreath of relief.

  And now for more than a mile the road was good. It wound in slowcurves, the high-branched ash and white maple meeting over it instately arches. Under foot it was hard and fairly even, with a thinturf between the shallow ruts. Sunlight and shadow flecked it in vividpatches; and the summer winds, which were blowing briskly in the open,breathed down this sheltered corridor only as half-stirred exhalationsof faint perfume. Neck by neck the horses galloped, their riderssilent, looking straight ahead, but thrillingly conscious of eachother's nearness. And the strong rhythm of the hoof-beats beneath themseemed to time itself to the rushing of their blood. It was now nolonger with vexation, but with a sort of half pride, that Barbararealised the superiority of the sorrel over her own mount. She sawthat only Robert's firm hand on the rein kept his beast from forgingahead. Thus they rushed along through the vast solitudes,--reallyalone together, although those solitudes were populous with the furtivekindreds of fur and feather. For the sound of their coming travelledfar before them, and gave the shy folk time to withdraw from suchunwelcome intrusion. Even the big black bear,--he whom Barbara hadseen tearing the ant-log,--now withdrew as noiselessly and shyly as thewood-mouse, not delaying for even a glance at the two wild riders.Only the red squirrel, inquisitive, daring, and impudent, stuck to hisvantage-post on a high-arched limb and jabbered shrill derision at themas they raced by.

  At length, just as the intoxication of the ride and the companionshipwere beginning to bewilder his brain, a turn of the road showed Roberta stretch of very bad ground right ahead. The careless roadmakers hadtried, in a half-hearted way, to fill up a long bog with brush andpoles. Had the attempt been fully carried out, the result would havebeen a rough but thoroughly passable piece of "corduroy road." As itwas, however, the brush and poles together had in spots sunk a footbelow the surface, at one side or the other, and in other spots hadbeen quite engulfed by the hungry black mire, making that stretch thecurse of wheel-travellers, and perilous enough to any but the mostcautious horsemen.

  The sight cooled Robert's nerves. Instead of reining in, however, helet his beast push a half-length to the front, that he might the bettercontrol the situation if need should arise. Then he said, resolutely:

  "If you have no care for your own life, dear lady, I beg you to thinkof that good beast of yours. He will break a leg in yon bog-holes, andthen he will have to be shot!"

  Barbara had b
een fully prepared, by now, to listen to reason and checkthe pace. She knew she had been unreasoning in her excitement. Butthe fact that Robert knew she had been unreasonable, and dared to show,by his tone as well as by his argument, that he knew it, stirred a hotresentment in her heart. In a flash she forgot that she had ever beenunreasonable at all. Her first impulse was to spur on with addedspeed. Had it been her own neck, merely, that she would risk, shewould not have hesitated. But Robert had hit on the one compellingplea. She could not face the risk of hurt to her horse, or to anykindly beast whatever. She reined in sharply, therefore, without aword; and at a walk the two horses began to pick their wary way overthe corduroy.

  "There's danger to the good beasts, even at this pace," remarkedRobert, with more truthfulness than tact.

  "Did you suppose," retorted Barbara, in a voice of withering scorn,"that I was going to ride my Black Prince at a gallop over such a pieceof road as this?"

  This was exactly what Robert had supposed, of course. But a sudden rayof insight entering his candid brain in time, he refrained from sayingso. He was on the point of saying, however, by way of explanation,that the ground which Barbara had already insisted upon traversing atfull speed was but little better than this; but here, too, a sharpeningperception checked him. He kept silence, seemingly absorbed in guidinghis horse between the miry pitfalls, until they found themselves onceagain on firm ground,--firm but rough. The horses, still apprehensive,showed no disposition to resume their vehement gait.

  "It's an outrage," cried Robert, "that the township should permit sucha piece of road as this. I shall have a voice in affairs here in threeor four years, and then I'll see that the road-work is properly done.I'll have no traps in this township to break good horses' legs!"

  This sentiment was so much to Barbara's taste that she found it anexcuse for being mollified.

  "That's right, Robert!" she answered, very graciously. "Now, be sureyou remember that when the time comes!"

  "I'll remember it," cried Robert, with cheerful confidence.

  By this time, when the leisurely walking of the horses offered noaffront to the forest quiet, the birds were resuming their busy callsand the bustle of their intimate affairs; and the less shy members ofthe furry fellowship went once more about their business in the busyprecincts of the road. Barbara's sympathetic and unerring visionsingled them out, differentiating them from their harmonioussurroundings, when Robert's eye, as a rule, could not without help seeanything but lichened stumps and stones, or bunches of brown weed, orodd-shaped excrescences on the trees. Yet Robert's eye was the eye ofthe hunter, skilled in the ruses of all quarry. Barbara's woodcraftwent immeasurably beyond his,--and perceiving this, her last resentmentfaded out and she began to initiate him. She named and distinguishedfor him birds of which he had never even heard, and corrected him withgleeful pride when he innocently mistook the cry of a woodpecker forthat of a jay. As for Robert, his delight in this initiation wassecond only to his delight in his wilful initiator, who was now allearnestness and to him a marvel of abstruse erudition. He learned veryquickly, however, and so Barbara was pleased not less by hiscomparative ignorance than by his superlative aptitude, which was anincense of flattery to his instructress. Only on the subject of deerand grouse Barbara could teach him nothing.

  "You know all about those," she cried, reproachfully, "because you havetaken the trouble to learn about them, so you can kill them!"

  "It does seem a pity to kill such lovely, interesting creatures,"acknowledged the lad, thoughtfully. "But what can we do? Surely theywere given to us for our use. Providence intended them for our food.It must be right for us to kill them!"

  "Of course," assented Barbara, unequipped with any philosophy whichmight have enabled her to combat this argument. "Of course, it isright for us to _eat_ them. But you, Robert, you _take pleasure_ in_killing_ them. I don't quite like you for that!"

  Robert's face grew more and more thoughtful, for this was to him a hardsaying, indeed, and he had no answer ready. He was a skilled shot anda keen huntsman.

  "I could not understand a man not taking pleasure in the chase," saidhe, "but I suppose if he got to know the wild things intimately, andlove them, as you do, he could no longer bear to kill them, sweet lady!"

  "I'm going to teach you to love them all, Robert," said Barbara, easilyconfident in her powers.

  "I am taught already," he began, with the little elaborate air whichBarbara liked. Then he changed his mind quickly. "No, I don't meanthat at all! I shall need a great many lessons; but I shall learn atlast, if you teach me faithfully!"

  Barbara laughed, a clear, ringing laugh, that astonished the lurkingweasel and made the red squirrel highly indignant.

  "You don't mean anything at all you say, Robert. You just like to saypretty things!"

  Which was wantonly unjust, as Barbara knew, and as her very graciousglance acknowledged.

  A few rods farther on, Barbara suddenly drew rein, wheeled her horseabout, and held out her hand.

  "Now I must go home, Robert. I think I can trust you to find the restof the way alone! Don't forget what I've told you. And don't forgetto come and see Uncle Bob, the very first of next week. And thank youso much for bringing back the canoe."

  Robert had promptly taken the little brown hand, and kissed it withsomewhat more fervour than form required, till Barbara, without anysign of displeasure, snatched it away. Then, instead of sayinggood-bye, he wheeled his big sorrel. "You must allow me the honour ofriding back with you, Mistress Barbara," said he.

  "No, indeed!" cried the girl. "I cannot think of letting you do anysuch thing. It will be late enough as it is when you get to GaultHouse!"

  Robert's mind was quite made up, but he scanned her face anxiously tosee if she really meant her inhibition. Her dancing eyes and laughingmouth convinced him that she did not mean it with any seriousconviction, so his obstinate jaw relaxed.

  "Allow you to ride back through these woods alone, my lady?" heprotested, gaily. "Do you think the wood spirits would let slip suchan opportunity to carry off their queen? You are theirs, by rights, Iknow. But I must see you back safely into the hands of MistressMehitable."

  So it came about that, in spite of his exigencies, Robert dined atMistress Mehitable's, and did not start for Gault House till long pastnoon.