in a bed, with her
window-blind up, calmly waiting for the flashes: lightning excited her.
He had seen her lying at her length quietly, her black hair scattered on
the pillow, like shadow of twigs and sprays on moonlit grass, illuminated
intermittently; smiling to him, but her heart out and abroad, wild as any
witch's. If on the road, she would not quail. But it was necessary to be
certain of her having a trusty postillion.

He walked through the drench and scream of a burst cloud to the
posting-office. There, after some trouble, he obtained information
directing him to the neighbouring mews. He had thence to find his way to
the neighbouring pot-house.

The report of the postillion was, on the whole, favourable. The man
understood horses--was middle-aged--no sot; he was also a man with an eye
for weather, proverbially in the stables a cautious hand--slow 'Old
Slow-and-sure,' he was called; by name, Joshua Abnett.

'Oh, Joshua Abnett?' said the earl, and imprinted it on his memory, for
the service it was to do during the night.

Slow-and-sure Joshua Abnett would conduct her safely, barring accidents.
For accidents we must all be prepared. She was a heroine in an accident.
The earl recalled one and more: her calm face, brightened eyes, easy
laughter. Hysterics were not in her family.

She did wrong to let that fellow Morsfield accompany her. Possibly he had
come across her on the road, and she could not shake him off. Judging by
all he knew of her, the earl believed she would not have brought the
fellow into the grounds of Steignton of her free will. She had always a
particular regard for decency.

According to the rumour, Morsfield and the woman Pagnell were very thick
together. He barked over London of his being a bitten dog. He was near to
the mad dog's fate, as soon as a convenient apology for stopping his
career could be invented.

The thinking of the lesson to Morsfield on the one hand, and of the
slow-and-sure postillion Joshua Abriett on the other, lulled Lord Ormont
to a short repose in his desolate house. Of Weyburn he had a glancing
thought, that the young man would be a good dog to guard the countess
from a mad dog, as he had reckoned in commissioning him.

Next day was the day of sunlight Aminta loved.

It happens with the men who can strike, supposing them of the order of
civilized creatures, that when they have struck heavily, however deserved
the blow, a liking for the victim will assail them, if