I turned aside therefore to
join him; but had gone only a few yards when, from some shift in a
shadow, or some change in his position with regard to the light, I saw
that the horse was not John's; it was a gray, or rather, a white horse.
Could the rider be my uncle? Even at that distance I almost thought I
recognized him. It must indeed have been he John saw at the quarry! He
was not gone abroad! He had been all this long time lingering about the
place, lest ill should befall us! "Just like him!" said my heart, as I
gave Zoe the rein, and she sprang off at her best speed. But after riding
some distance, I lost sight of the horseman, whoever he was, and then saw
that, if I did not turn at once, I should not keep my appointment with
John. Of course had I _believed_ it was my uncle, I should have followed
and followed; and the incident would not have been worth mentioning, for
gray horses are not so uncommon that there might not be one upon the
heath at any moment, but for something more I saw the same night.
It was bright moonlight. I had taken down a curtain of my window to mend,
and the moon shone in so that I could not sleep. My thoughts were all
with my uncle--wondering what he was about; whether he was very dull;
whether he wanted me much; whether he was going about Paris, or haunting
the moor that stretched far into the distance from where I lay.
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