folk, who said he did not know when he should see
me again, and insisted on paying me on the spot: 'faith I was not nice
in the matter. Thornton was standing by at the time, and I did not half
like the turn of his eye when he saw me put it up. Do you know, too,"
continued Tyrrell, after a pause, "that I have had a d--d fellow dodging
me all day, and yesterday too; wherever I go, I am sure to see him. He
seems constantly, though distantly, to follow me; and what is worse, he
wraps himself up so well, and keeps at so cautious a distance, that I
can never catch a glimpse of his face."

I know not why, but at that moment the recollection of the muffled
figure I had seen upon the course, flashed upon me.

"Does he wear a long horseman's cloak?" said I.

"He does," answered Tyrrell, in surprise: "have you observed him?"

"I saw such a person on the race ground," replied I; "but only for an
instant!"

Farther conversation was suspended by a few heavy drops which fell upon
us; the cloud had passed over the moon, and was hastening rapidly and
loweringly over our heads. Tyrrell was neither of an age, a frame, nor a
temper, to be so indifferent to a hearty wetting as myself.

"God!" he cried, "you must put on that beast of your's--I can't get wet,
for all the horses in the world."

I was not much pleased with the dictatorial tone of this remark. "It is
impossible," said I, "especially as the horse is not my own, and seems
considerably lamer than at first; but let me not detain you."

"Well!" cried Tyrrell, in a raised and angry voice, which pleased me
still less than his former remark; "but how am I to find my way, if I
leave you?"

"Keep straight on," said I, "for a mile farther, then a sign-post will
direct you to the left; after a short time, you will have a steep hill
to descend, at the bottom of which is a large pool, and a singularly
shaped tree; then keep straight on, till you pass a house belonging to
Mr. Dawson--"

"Come, come, Pelham, make haste!" exclaimed Tyrrell, impatiently, as the
rain began now to descend fast and heavy.

"When you have passed that house," I resumed coolly, rather enjoying his
petulance, "you must bear to the right for six miles, and you will be at
Chester Park in less than an hour."

Tyrrell made no reply, but put spurs to his horse. The pattering rain
and the angry heavens soon drowned the last echoes of the receding
hoofclang.

For myself, I looked in vain for a tree; not even a