As to this little fellow, in spite of the Dutchman, who, in my opinion, is more of a Jacobite than a conjurer, and more of a knave than either, he shall never mount a horse foaled by an acorn, if I can help it. Impassive by nature and training, he was conscious to-night of a strange sense of excitement, of exhilaration tempered by a dull background of disappointment. You are not a tourist seeking adventure. His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet. This path, bordered on each side by high privet hedges of the most beautiful green, soon brought them to a stile. He had gained admission somehow, and he too was waiting for Anna. But not finding it, he had again recourse to the bludgeon, and began beating the hand fixed on the upper rail, until, by smashing the fingers, he forced it to relinquish its hold.
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