But the next he was on his feet, and, the groom still
holding the mare, in the saddle again: a little anger is a fine
spur for the side of even an honest intent. This time he sat for
half a minute, and then found himself once more on the grass. It
was but once more: his mother earth had claimed him again only to
complete his strength. A third time he mounted--and sat. As soon
as she perceived it would be hard work to unseat him, the mare was
quiet.
"Bravo!" cried the marquis, giving him the letter.
"Will there be an answer, my lord?"
"Wait and see."
"I s' gar you pey for't, gien we come upon a broon rig atween this
an' Kirkbyres," said Malcolm, addressing the mare, and rode away.
Both the marquis and Lady Florimel, whose laughter had altogether
ceased in the interest of watching the struggle, stood looking
after him with a pleased expression, which, as he vanished up the
glen, changed to a mutual glance and smile.
"He's got good blood in him, however he came by it," said the
marquis. "The country is more indebted to its nobility than is
generally understood."
Otherwise indebted at least than Lady Florimel could gather from
her father's remark!
CHAPTER XXXV: KIRKBYRES
Malcolm felt considerably refreshed after his tussle with the mare
and his victory over her, and much enjoyed his ride of ten miles.
It was a cool autumn afternoon. A few of the fields were being
reaped, one or two were crowded with stooks, while many crops of
oats yet waved and rustled in various stages of vanishing green.
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