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She had said a hundred times
that she ought not go again out to the monuments. For Lin Slone had fallen
despairingly, terribly in love with her.
It was not this, she averred, but the monuments and the beautiful Wildfire
that had woven a spell round her she could not break. She had ridden Wildfire
all through that strange region of monuments and now they claimed something of
her. Just as wonderful was Wildfire's love for her. The great stallion hated
Slone and loved Lucy. Of all the remarkable circumstances she had seen or
heard about a horse, this fact was the most striking. She could do anything
with him. All that savageness and wildness disappeared when she approached
him. He came at her call. He whistled at sight of her. He sent out a ringing
blast of disapproval when she rode away. Every day he tried to bite or kick
Slone, but he was meek under Lucy's touch.
But this morning there came to Lucy the first vague doubt of herself. Once
entering her mind, that doubt became clear. And then she vowed she liked Slone
as she might a brother.


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