Down the hill, on the far side of the track, she perceived the two men approaching with a horse; then she remembered the fact that she had been thrown, and that it was her horse. She rose to her feet.
“I'm ever so much obliged to you, Mr. Gaylord,” she said; “you have done me a great favour by--telling me these things. And thanks for letting them catch the horse. I'm afraid I've put you to a lot of bother.”
“Not at all,” said Tom, “not at all.” He was studying her face. Its expression troubled and moved him strangely, for he was not an analytical person. “I didn't mean to tell you those things when I began,” he apologized, “but you wanted to hear them.”
“I wanted to hear them,” repeated Victoria. She held out her hand to him.
“You're not going to ride home!” he exclaimed. “I'll take you up in my buggy--it's in the station shed.”
She smiled, turned and questioned and thanked the men, examined the girths and bridle, and stroked the five-year-old on the neck. He was wet from mane to fetlocks.
“I don't think he'll care to run much farther,” she said. “If you'll pull him over to the lumber pile, Mr. Gaylord, I'll mount him.”
They performed her bidding in silence, each paying her a tribute in his thoughts. As for the five-year-old, he was quiet enough by this time. When she was in the saddle she held out her hand once more to Tom.
“I hope we shall meet soon again,” she said, and smiling back at him, started on her way towards Fairview.
Tom stood for a moment looking after her, while the two men indulged in surprised comments.
“Andrews,” said young Mr. Gaylord, “just fetch my buggy and follow her until she gets into the gate.”
Empires crack before they crumble, and the first cracks seem easily mended--even as they have been mended before. A revolt in Gaul or Britain or Thrace is little to be minded, and a prophet in Judea less. And yet into him who sits in the seat of power a premonition of something impending gradually creeps--a premonition which he will not acknowledge, will not define. Yesterday, by the pointing of a finger, he created a province; to-day he dares not, but consoles himself by saying he does not wish to point. No antagonist worthy of his steel has openly defied him, worthy of recognition by the opposition of a legion. But the sense of security has been subtly and indefinably shaken.