But Mr. Anthony would die rather than harm her, I am
sure."
"Maybe, sir--but 'e looked 'orrible wild an' fierce when 'e rode
off--an' drink du be a tur'ble thing."
"Now--touching a chaise, George--"
"Chaise, sir?"
"A black chaise picked out in yellow, with red wheels. You have seen
such drive up to Raydon Manor, yonder, you told me once, I think?"
"I did, sir, an' I 'ave--frequent! It do have drove up theer this very
evening. But Lord, Mr. Vereker, be you a thinkin' o' walkin' out--an'
night comin' on?"
"I am, George."
"'T will be dark soon, sir. And you 'ardly yourself, yet!"
"No, George, there will be a moon."
"But, sir, wot am I to tell your lady aunt?"
"That I have taken a walk in quest of my health--and sanity, George."
"Be you a-goin' fur, sir?"
"No further than I need."
"Then I think I'll go along wi' you, sir."
"No, George, I may be back before the moon is up. At least--no, it
will be high-risen when I return, most likely. Only pray assure my
aunt that I am doing the very best for myself." So saying, I left the
faithful George staring after me and shaking dubious head.
I walked at a leisurely pace, deliberating how best to contrive the
desperate task I had set myself to accomplish, how best to bring it to
a final and certain issue.
And presently up came the moon in glory and I stared up at her as one
does who may behold her perhaps for the last time. Calm and serene she
arose, and as I walked amid this tender light, I seemed to breathe in
something of her passionless serenity and knew a strange exaltation of
mind, placid and untroubled.
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