"I used to sing that song," he said, "when I was a youngster, but I never had a fine voice like yours. Tune up again."
Broussard tuned up again, and this time it was a sweet old sentimental ballad. He went conscientiously through his repertory of old-fashioned ballads, not smiling in the least, Colonel Fortescue listening gravely to these songs of love. The purple twilight was coming on fast and the ruddy glare of the fire threw a beautiful crimson light upon the snow-draped cliffs and ice-clad trees. During the intervals between the songs, the two men listened for the sound of coming help. With a good fire, plenty of cigars, and Broussard's cheerful singing, their plight was not so bad. But a disturbing thought came to both of them.
"The horse running back riderless, will alarm my wife and daughter," said Colonel Fortescue after a while.
Broussard made no reply; he hoped that Anita would be a little frightened about him.
Half an hour after Colonel Fortescue and Broussard rode away, Anita, walking into her mother's room, said to Mrs. Fortescue:
"Mother, let us ride this afternoon. It is so gloriously clear and cold."
Mrs. Fortescue turned from the desk where she was writing and hesitated.
"I saw your father go off on Gamechick. You can ride Pretty Maid, but your father objects so much to my riding Birdseye."
"But there are plenty of mounts besides Birdseye," said Anita.
Mrs. Fortescue glanced out of the window at the winter landscape and shivered a little.
"It is very cold," she said, "and rather late; the sun will be gone in a little while."
Anita came behind her mother and put her hands under Mrs. Fortescue's pretty chin.
"Dear mother," she said, "I want so much to ride this afternoon; I feel that I must. Won't you go out, if it is only for half an hour?"
Anita's eloquent eyes and pleading voice were not lost upon Mrs. Fortescue, who found it difficult always to resist pleadings.
"Well then," she said, "call up the stables and tell them to bring the horses around as soon as possible, and some one to go with us, perhaps McGillicuddy."
Ten minutes later, Mrs. Fortescue and Anita, in their trim black habits and smart little hats fastened on with filmy veils, came out on the stone steps. The trooper was leading the horses up and down, and Sergeant McGillicuddy, as escort, put both ladies into their saddles and then himself mounted. Just as Mrs. Fortescue settled herself in saddle and gave her horse a light touch with her riding-crop, a strange sound was borne upon the sharp wind, the unmistakable sound of a runaway horse. Sergeant McGillicuddy and Anita heard the sound at the same moment, and stood motionless to listen. It grew rapidly near and nearer and stray passers-by turned toward the main entrance, from which direction came the wild clatter of iron-shod hoofs in maddened flight. Suddenly through the open main entrance dashed Gamechick without a rider.