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Updated: June 5, 2025
I grew angry, and determined that he should follow me, even if I had to call him. So I drew Dolcy to a stand. Was not that bold in me? But wait, there is worse to come, Malcolm. He did not move, but stood like a statue looking toward me. I knew that he wanted to come, so after a little time I I beckoned to him and and then he came like a thunderbolt. Oh! it was delicious.
I walked to the north side of the tower and on looking down the first person I saw was our new servant, Thomas, holding two horses at the mounting stand. One of them was Dolcy, and I, feeling that a brisk ride with Dorothy would help me to throw off my wretchedness, quickly descended the tower stairs, stopped at my room for my hat and cloak, and walked around to the mounting block.
I came up the Lathkil by the long road, and I hoped that I might reach you in time to give warning. When the guard left Haddon I realized the evil that would come upon you by reason of my base betrayal." Here she broke down and for a moment could not proceed in the narrative. She soon recovered and continued: "Then I mounted Dolcy, and tried to reach here by way of the long road.
The rivers were in flood, but when Dorothy and I reached the ford, the girl did not stop to consider the danger ahead of her. I heard her whisper, "On, Dolcy, on," and I heard the sharp "whisp" of the whip as she struck the trembling, fearful mare, and urged her into the dark flood. Dolcy hesitated, but Dorothy struck her again and again with the whip and softly cried, "On, Dolcy, on."
But Dorothy feared not, or knew not, the danger, and I caught her ever whispered cry, "On, Dolcy, on; on, Dolcy, on." Ashamed to fall behind, yet fearing to ride at such a pace on such a path, I urged my horse forward. He was a fine, strong, mettlesome brute, and I succeeded in keeping the girl's dim form in sight.
Though small of limb, she is swift as the wind, and as easy as a cradle in her gaits. She is mettlesome and fiery, but full of affection. She often kisses Dorothy. Mare and rider are finely mated. Dorothy is the most perfect woman, and Dolcy is the most perfect mare. 'The two D's, we call them.
It was a series of rough rocks and mudholes, and Dorothy and Dolcy shot forward upon it with the speed of the tempest, to undo, if possible, the evil which a dozen words, untimely spoken, had wrought. I urged my horse until his head was close by Dolcy's tail, and ever and anon could I hear the whispered cry, "On, Dolcy, on; on, Dolcy, sweet Dolcy, good Dolcy; on, my pet, on."
The wind cannot so easily blow it about," and she laughed as she shook the garment to free it of the water. Dolcy refused to drink, and Dorothy having no excuse to linger at the well, drew up her reins and prepared to leave. While doing so, she said: "Do you often come to Overhaddon?" Her eager eyes shone like red coals, and looking at John, she awaited smilingly his response.
She did not give me an opportunity to change my mind, but struck Dolcy a sharp blow with her whip that sent the spirited mare galloping toward the dove-cote, and Thomas quickly followed at a respectful distance. From the dove-cote Dorothy took the path down the Wye toward Rowsley. I, of course, connected her strange conduct with John.
Then she fearlessly dashed away alone into the black night; and as I watched her fair form fade into the shadows, the haunting cry came faintly back to me, "On, Dolcy, on; on, Dolcy on," and I was sick at heart. I was loath to leave her thus in the inky gloom.
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