Hastening to the spot where he had tied his horse to a tree, he vaulted into the saddle, and rode off across the fields,—for he was fearful of encountering the hostile party,—till he reached the Edgeware Road. Come down with me to the Lodge directly. It’s the poor dears who do, who know they will, know they can’t keep it up, who need to clutch at way-side flowers. “Hey,” he said, his eyes slowly adjusting to the soft blackness. "That's usual. I want to make you feel that here is a place where the crowd does not clamor nor ill-winds blow. Take them, and may they prove as serviceable to you as I desire.
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