When last we saw him, the hour was about half-past seven or a quarter to eight, night was beginning to fall, and without doing any thing figurative in regard to the evening--without comparing the retiring rays of light to the retreat of a defeated army, or the changing colour of the sky to the contents of a London milkmaid's pail under the influence of the pump--we may be permitted to say that the heavens were getting very gray; the rose and the purple had waned, and night, heavy night, was pouring like a deluge through the air. Nevertheless, the night was fine, a star or two shone out, and the moment Ned Hayward sprang to the window through which the ball had come, he saw a figure hurrying away through the trees at the distance of about three hundred yards. They were fine old trees with no underwood--English park trees, wide apart, far-spreading, gigantic; and Ned Hayward paused an instant to gaze after he had jumped out of the window, and then took to his heels and ran on as fast as a pair of long, strong, well-practised legs would carry him. There was turf below him and his feet fell lightly, but he had not gained more than fifty yards upon the figure when he saw through the bolls another figure not human but equine. For a short distance the person he pursued did not seem aware that he had a follower, but before the time arrived when the horse became apparent some indications seemed to reach his ear, and, if Ned Hayward ran quick, the other seemed to run nearly as fast. When the young gentleman was within about a hundred yards of him, however, the man was upon the horse's back and galloping away. Ned Hayward stopped and followed him with his eyes, marking the course he took as far as the light would permit. He then listened, and heard the noise of the horse's feet distinctly beating the ground in one direction. The next moment the sounds became confused with others, as if another horse were near, and turning round to the road which led from the gate on the side of Tarningham, the young officer saw a mounted man coming slowly up towards the house. "By Jove, this is lucky!" said Ned Hayward, as he recollected having heard Sir John Slingsby tell a groom to carry a note to Mr. Wharton, the lawyer: and running down to the road as fast as possible, he stopped the servant, and bade him dismount and let him have the horse immediately. The groom recognised his master's guest; but he had some hesitation, and began his reply with a "Please, Sir--" But Ned cut him short at once, in a very authoritative tone; and in two minutes he was in the saddle. He paused not an instant to think, for calculation was a very rapid process with him, and, during his morning's rambles, he had marked, with a soldier's eye, all the bearings and capabilities of the park and the ground round about it. The result of his combinations was thus expressed upon the mental tablet, or nearly thus:--