Two or three
minutes passed, and then I heard the thunder of hoofs. I ran to the
window. There she was, tearing across the park at full gallop, on just
such a huge black horse as she had smothered in the bog! I was the only
one of us that saw her, and not one of us ever set eyes upon her again.
When we went over the house, it soon became plain to us that she had been
in readiness for a sudden retreat, having prepared for it after a fashion
of her own: not a single small article of value was to be discovered in
it. John's great-aunt, who left him the property, died in the house,
possessed of a large number of jewels, many of them of great price both
in themselves and because of their antiquity: not one of them was ever
found.
A report reached us long after, that lady Cairnedge was found dead in her
bed in a hotel in the Tyrol.
My uncles lived for many years on the old farm. Uncle Edmund bought a
gray horse, as like uncle Edward's as he could find one, only younger. I
often wondered what Death must think--to know he had his master on his
back, and yet see him mounted by his side. Every day one or the other,
most days both, would ride across the moor to see us. For many years
Martha walked in at the door at least once every week.
My uncles took no pains, for they had no desire, to be distinguished the
one from the other. Each was always ready to meet any obligation of the
other.
Pages:
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248