"My child, you shall know all I know; all I suspect, rather, for nothing is positive. We--Peter and I--fear an attempt has been made to poison The Prince."
The word struggled through an indrawn breath of horror.
"The horse's symptoms indicated this. Peter found him in time for an antidote which he administered to be beneficial, else I fear we would have lost him. We examined the feed which had been given him last night, and found some of it mixed with a whitish powder. In view of this we could come to only one conclusion."
The sentence which the girl's lips started to frame died with the first word. Her lips met firmly, and a slow dread gathered in her eyes.
From the highway not far off came the sound of a horse's hoofs, running at full speed. The Major was facing the road, and the girl turned to see a horseman dash furiously along the pike and disappear behind a fringe of trees which bordered the road farther on. Julia turned to her father, and saw written plainly upon his face a confirmation of her fears.
"Or an emissary. He is our only enemy, and in all his stable of thoroughbreds he has not one that can approach The Prince!"
At the door of The Prince's stall they stopped, and looked in eagerly. The horse recognized them, and whinnied feebly. Peter, with curry-comb and brush, was going over the splendid animal vigorously, though not a speck showed on his shining coat.
The old negro spoke encouragingly between the grunts caused by his exertion.
"He am beginnin' to tek notice. He et mos' he feed, 'n' he 'peared right glad to see me. I wush I c'd lay dese brack han's on de low-down skunk whut tech 'im! I'd break his naik!"
The Prince was standing a little stiffly, and his slender, patrician head hung lower than it should, but his breathing was not labored, and his eyes were bright and beaming with intelligence.
"He'll come, Peter; he'll come!" said the Major, warmly. "He had a close call, but your prompt action saved him. You're a good boy, Peter, and I commend you!"
Peter grinned his appreciation, and rubbed the satin limbs with renewed vigour.
"Yassuh, he'll come all right, 'n' w'en de race hit come, he'll beat eb'ry one ob 'em! De hoss ain't folded whut kin tech 'im!"
"I believe you, boy. Only once in a lifetime is a hoss born like The Prince."