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Thus it happened that when Maulevrier was away from Fellside, no fair
_chatelaine_ of the Middle Ages could be more ignorant of the movements
or whereabouts of her crusader knight than Mary was of her brother's
goings on. She could but pray for him with fond and faithful prayer, and
wait and hope for his return. And now he told her that things had gone
badly with him at Epsom, and worse at Ascot, that he had been, as he
expressed it, 'up a tree,' and that he had gone off to the Black Forest
directly the Ascot week was over, and at Rippoldsau he had met his old
friend and fellow traveller, Hammond, and they had gone for a walking
tour together among the homely villages, the watchmakers, the timber
cutters, the pretty peasant girls. They had danced at fairs--and shot at
village sports--and had altogether enjoyed the thing. Hammond, who was
something of an artist, had sketched a good deal. Maulevrier had done
nothing but smoke his German pipe and enjoy himself.
'I was glad to find myself in a world where a horse was an exception and
not the rule,' he said.


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