His face was all alert now, his eyes keen and
piercing. He stared at the mechanism of the blades, and stood awhile
thinking.
What was this? A happy idea was beginning to work in his mind. Vague
only as yet--there was still time to thrust it aside. Should he?
Warm mild days and luminous nights. Sometimes he could not sleep for
thinking how delicious it was to lie awake and see the sun come up.
On one such night he got up and dressed. A few minutes later there was
a trampling of hoofs in the stable-yard and the chestnut stallion
appeared, with Peer leading him. He swung himself into the saddle, and
trotted off down the road, a white figure in his drill suit and cork
helmet.
Where was he going? Nowhere. It was a change, to be up at an unusual
hour and see the day break on a July morning.
He trotted along at an easy pace, rising lightly in the stirrups, and
enjoying the pleasant warmth the rider feels. All was quiet around him,
the homesteads still asleep. The sky was a pearly white, with here and
there a few golden clouds, reflected in the lake below. And the broad
meadows still spread their many-coloured flower-carpet abroad; there was
a scent in the air of leaf and meadow-grass and pine, he drew in deep
breaths of it and could have sung aloud.
He turned into the by-road up the hill, dismounting now and again to
open a gate; past farms and little cottages, ever higher and higher,
till at last he reached the topmost ridge, and halted in a clearing.
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