The intruder was handsomely, even richly, attired in a scarlet riding-suit, embroidered with gold; a broad belt, to which a hanger was attached, crossed his shoulders; his boots rose above his knee, and he carried a laced hat in his hand. To reach it would be a most difficult undertaking. Jack, whose clothes were covered with dust, and whose face was deathly pale from his recent exertion, looked more like a phantom than a living person. By and by—as the paroxysm subsided and he became motionless—she stole back to the bungalow to wait. She tried to think what she should do in this eventuality or that.
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