They turned silently into the mountain road.
"The bridge would have been simpler and quicker," said Shirley; "as it is, I shall be late to the ball." "I am contrite enough; but you don't make explanations." "No; I don't explain; and you are to come back as soon as we strike the valley.

I always send gentlemen back at that point," she laughed, and went ahead of him into the narrow road.

She guided the strange horse with the ease of long practice, skilfully testing his paces, and when they came to a stretch of smooth road sent him flying at a gallop over the trail.

He had given her his own horse, a hunter of famous strain, and she at once defined and maintained a distance between them that made talk impossible.
Her short covert riding-coat, buttoned close, marked clearly in the starlight her erect figure; light wisps of loosened hair broke free under her soft felt hat, and when she turned her head the wind caught the brim and pressed it back from her face, giving a new charm to her profile.
He called after her once or twice at the start, but she did not pause or reply; and he could not know what mood possessed her; or that once in flight, in the security the horse gave her, she was for the first time afraid of him.

He had declared his love for her, and had offered to break down the veil of mystery that made him a strange and perplexing figure.
His affairs, whatever their nature, were now at a crisis, he had said; quite possibly she should never see him again after this ride.