k. 'I 'm Presumed to be in luck.
Ingratitude is not my fault--I'm afraid ambition is!'

'Console yourself with it or what you can get till we meet--here or in
London. But the Dragon shall be the address for both of us,' Evan said,
and nodded, trotting off.

CHAPTER XVIII. IN WHICH EVAN CALLS HIMSELF GENTLEMAN

The young cavalier perused that letter again in memory. Genuine, or a
joke of the enemy, it spoke wakening facts to him. He leapt from the
spell Rose had encircled him with. Strange that he should have rushed
into his dream with eyes open! But he was fully awake now. He would
speak his last farewell to her, and so end the earthly happiness he paid
for in deep humiliation, and depart into that gray cold mist where his
duty lay. It is thus that young men occasionally design to burst from
the circle of the passions, and think that they have done it, when
indeed they are but making the circle more swiftly. Here was Evan
mouthing his farewell to Rose, using phrases so profoundly humble, that
a listener would have taken them for bitter irony. He said adieu to
her,--pronouncing it with a pathos to melt scornful princesses. He tried
to be honest, and was as much so as his disease permitted.

The black cloud had swallowed the sun; and turning off to the short
cut across the downs, Evan soon rode between the wind and the storm.
He could see the heavy burden breasting the beacon-point, round which
curled leaden arms, and a low internal growl saluted him advancing. The
horse laid back his ears. A last gust from the opposing quarter shook
the furzes and the clumps of long pale grass, and straight fell columns
of rattling white rain, and in a minute he was closed in by a hissing
ring. Men thus pelted abandon without protest the hope of retaining
a dry particle of clothing on their persons. Completely drenched, the
track lost, everything in dense gloom beyond the white enclosure that
moved with him, Evan flung the reins to the horse, and curiously
watched him footing on; for physical discomfort balanced his mental
perturbation, and he who had just been chafing was now quite calm.

Was that a shepherd crouched under the thorn? The place betokened a
shepherd, but it really looked like a bundle of the opposite sex; and
it proved to be a woman gathered up with her gown over her head.
Apparently, Mr. Evan Harrington was destined for these encounters. The
thunder rolled as he stopped by her side and called out to her. She
h