Some slight anxiety about my uncle's decision, and the
certain foreboding of trouble on the part of his mother, stilled us both,
sending the delight of having found each other a little deeper and out of
the way of the practical and reasoning.
We did not urge our horses to their speed, but I felt that, for my
uncle's sake, I must not prolong the journey, forcing the last farthing
of bliss from his generosity, while yet he was uncertain of his duty. The
moon was rising just as we reached my home, and I was glad: John would
have to walk miles to reach his, for he absolutely refused to take Death
on, saying he did not know what might happen to him. As we stopped at the
gate I bethought myself that neither of us had eaten since we left in the
afternoon. I dismounted, and leaving him with the horses, got what I
could find for him, and then roused Dick, who was asleep. John confessed
that, now I had made him think of it, he was hungry enough to eat
anything less than an ox. We parted merrily, but when next we met, each
confessed it had not been without a presentiment of impending danger. For
my part, notwithstanding the position I had presumed to take with John
when first he spoke of his mother, I was now as distrustful as he, and
more afraid of her.
Much the nearest way between the two houses lay across the heath. John
walked along, eating the supper I had given him, and now and then casting
a glance round the horizon.
Pages:
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120