And here, in a shady alcove
screened by curtains, I espied Anthony kissing his wife; her round,
white arms were about his neck, crushing his cravat woefully, but
seeing the rapture in their faces I stole away and left them.
Reaching the hall I bade a footman summon my carriage, but on second
thoughts countermanded the order and, donning hat and cloak, set out
to walk home to my chambers. A wind was abroad and I walked bareheaded
to cool the fevered throbbing of my temples, but this wind found
voices to mock me and at my heels ran demons, gibbering obscenities.
Reaching my door at last, I thundered on the knocker until it opened,
and brushing past the pallid Clegg, bade him order my horse.
"Horse, sir?" he repeated, a note of interest in his usually toneless
voice. "Do you propose to go riding, sir?"
"I do!"
"Yes, sir--which horse do you--?"
"Wildfire. Have him brought round at once!"
"Very good, sir!"
Not waiting for Clegg's assistance, I slipped off my evening garments
and was pulling on my riding boots when I heard the tattoo of
Wildfire's impatient hoofs upon the roadway.
"What time may I expect you back, sir?" enquired Clegg, as I jingled
downstairs.
"I cannot say. I may be late or very early so--get to bed."
"If you are travelling far, sir, might I suggest that your pistols are
ready in their holsters upstairs--"
"I shall not need them!" said I, and stepped out into the street where
Wildfire danced and capered in the grasp of Tom, my groom.
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