The uproar was tremendous—men yelling— dogs barking,—but above all was heard the stentorian voice of Jonathan, urging them on. Even her memories of he who had frequented her life for the longest period of years were worn and fading. Hadn’t they settled that already? “I want you as a friend,” he persisted, almost as if he disputed something. Ascertaining that it was Sheppard of whom this concourse was in pursuit, the two horsemen leapt the hedge, and were presently close upon him. He started a dozen stories, but they all ended in the waste-basket.
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