elt of the starry Hunter and the shifting lanes that zig-tagged
his course below. The Downs were softly illumined; still it amazed him
to think of a woman like Diana Warwick having an attachment to this
district, so hard of yield, mucky, featureless, fit but for the rails
she sided with her friend in detesting. Reasonable women, too! The moon,
stood high on her march as he entered Storling. He led his good beast
to the stables of The Three Ravens, thanking her and caressing her. The
ostler conjectured from the look of the mare that he had been out with
the hounds and lost his way. It appeared to Redworth singularly, that
near the ending of a wild goose chase, his plight was pretty well
described by the fellow. However, he had to knock at the door of The
Crossways now, in the silent night time, a certainly empty house, to his
fancy. He fed on a snack of cold meat and tea, standing, and set forth,
clearly directed, 'if he kept a sharp eye open.' Hitherto he had proved
his capacity, and he rather smiled at the repetition of the formula to
him, of all men. A turning to the right was taken, one to the left, and
through the churchyard, out of the gate, round to the right, and on.
By this route, after an hour, he found himself passing beneath the bare
chestnuts of the churchyard wall of Storling, and the sparkle of the
edges of the dead chestnut-leaves at his feet reminded him of the very
ideas he had entertained when treading them. The loss of an hour strung
him to pursue the chase in earnest, and he had a beating of the heart
as he thought that it might be serious. He recollected thinking it so
at Copsley. The long ride, and nightfall, with nothing in view, had
obscured his mind to the possible behind the thick obstruction of the
probable; again the possible waved its marsh-light. To help in saving
her from a fatal step, supposing a dozen combinations of the conditional
mood, became his fixed object, since here he was--of that there was
no doubt; and he was not here to play the fool, though the errand were
foolish. He entered the churchyard, crossed the shadow of the tower,
and hastened along the path, fancying he beheld a couple of figures
vanishing before him. He shouted; he hoped to obtain directions from
these natives: the moon was bright, the gravestones legible; but no
answer came back, and the place appeared to belong entirely to the dead.
'I've frightened them,' he thought. They left a queerish sensation
in his frame.