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.

A riderless horse fleeing in terror, is one of the most tragic sights on earth.  The horse came pounding at breakneck speed, blinded in his fright, as runaway horses are, but instinctively taking the straight path across the plaza.  It was as if the frantic hoof-beats awakened the whole post.  Soldiers ran out and officers stepped from their comfortable quarters, while the officers’ club emptied itself into the street.  The horse was recognized in a moment as Colonel Fortescue’s mount, and he made straight for the commandant’s house.  It was not necessary for the trooper to seize the reins hanging loose on Gamechick’s neck.  He came to a sudden halt, his sides heaving as if they would burst, and he was dripping wet as if he had been in a river.  He stood, quivering, his sensitive ears cocking and uncocking wildly.

Mrs. Fortescue’s face grew pale, but she said to McGillicuddy calmly: 

“Some accident has happened to Colonel Fortescue.  Send word at once to Major Harlow and to my son.”

Major Harlow, next in command, was on the spot almost as Mrs. Fortescue spoke.

“It is all right, Mrs. Fortescue,” said Major Harlow, cheerfully.  “The Colonel probably dismounted and the horse got away.  We will find him in a little while.”

“Yes,” replied Mrs. Fortescue, “and Anita and I will ride with you.”

Anita looked with triumphant eyes at her mother.

“I felt that we must be on horseback,” she said, “I didn’t understand why a few minutes ago, but now I know why.”

A messenger was sent for Beverley Fortescue, but he was not to be found.  Some one in the group of officers remembered having seen him riding off with Sally Harlow.  Major Harlow did not attempt to keep up with his daughter’s cavaliers.