There was no sign of
my companions, but a tall man, dressed in a blue coat with brass buttons
like a small country farmer, was tightening the girth of a magnificent
black horse, whilst a little further on a slim young ostler was waiting
by the roadside, holding the bridles of two others. It was only when I
recognised one of the pair as the horse which I had ridden on my first
coming to camp that I answered the smile upon the keen handsome face of
the ostler, and saw the swarthy features of Savary under the
broad-brimmed hat of the farmer.
'I think that we may travel without fearing to excite suspicion,' said
he. 'Crook that straight back of yours a little, Gerard! And now we
shall push upon our way, or we may find that we are too late.'
My life has had its share of adventures, and yet, somehow, this ride
stands out above the others.
There over the waters I could dimly see the loom of the English coast,
with its suggestions of dreamy villages, humming bees, and the pealing
of Sunday bells. I thought of the long, white High Street of Ashford,
with its red brick houses, and the inn with the great swinging sign.
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