Trodger was lying in wait at the bottom of the narrow stairs. Such was the condition of his mind that the danger exhilarated rather than depressed him. Except for one memorable school excursion to Paris, Ann Veronica had never yet been outside England. He had not proceeded far when he was alarmed by the tramp of a horse, which seemed to be rapidly approaching, and he had scarcely time to leap the hedge and conceal himself behind a tree, when a tall man, enveloped in an ample cloak, with his hat pulled over his brows, rode by at full speed. “Well,” she said, “good-night, father. “I can say no more. "The long and the short o' the matter's this then," returned Sharples with dignity, "the Markis begs your acceptance o' ten guineas to drink his health. His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet. “Let go!” said Ann Veronica, through her teeth, strenuously inflicting agony, and he cried out sharply and let go and receded a pace.
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