MY LADY OF THE SOUTH
the patiently waiting roan, finding place for her sound foot within the dangling stirrup.
"You will be compelled to ride man-fashion," I announced quietly. "I doubt if you could sit the saddle in any other way; but the night will protect you from observation. Kindly assist me in every way you can."
Whether it was my calm insistence, or merely her own sense of inability to resist longer, I do not know, but, for a single instant, I felt the weight of her hand upon my shoulder, and then she had found seat in the saddle, her head bowed forward, her hands clasping the pommel, as if the pain and exertion had left her faint. Somewhere in the passage, the uplifting, the revolver had slipped from her fingers, and then unnoticed into the blackness of the road. Without uttering a word I shortened the stirrup leather to meet her requirements, fastening the one opposite back, so it could not dangle against her injured ankle. Then I wet a silk neckerchief discovered in the pocket of the jacket I wore, sousing the cloth with water from the canteen, and bound it securely about the aching, swollen foot. If she realized what was being done, she gave no sign, and only as I grasped the horse's rein, and started forward on foot, did the girl raise her head in any sign of life. She swayed unsteadily to the first movements of the horse, and I glanced back apprehensively.
"Had I better bind you into the saddle?"
"No," the voice barely audible. "I shall not fall."
There was a long pause during which I could distinguish
[ 72 ]
