At the gate Honoria blew a whistle, and after a few seconds Aide-de-camp came obediently out of the darkness to be bridled.
This done, Taffy lent his hand and swung her into the saddle.
"Good-night and good-bye!"
Taffy was the first to turn back from the gate. The beat of Aide-de-camp"s hoofs reminded him of something--some music he had once heard; he could not remember where.
Humility lingered a moment longer, and followed to prepare her son"s supper.
But Honoria, fleeing along the ridge, hugged one fierce thought in her defeat. The warm wind sang by her ears, the rhythm of Aide-de-camp"s canter thudded upon her brain; but her heart cried back on them and louder than either--
"He is mine, mine, mine! He is mine, and always will be. He is lost to me, but I possess him. For what he is I have made him, and at my cost he is strong."