"No, sir! He'd been gone a good 'arf-hour afore she came. 'O George,' says she, all a-gaspin' like, 'is Miss Lovel 'ere?' 'Upstairs along o' Mr. Vereker, ma'm,' I says. 'Oh, I must see her--I must see her!' cries she, a-shakin' wuss'n ever, so that I was afeard she'd fall off 'er 'oss an' 'im that gentle! 'Can I 'elp you ma'm?' says I. 'No!' says she, moanin' an' breathless-like. 'Oh, no, George--nobody can, O God, 'elp me, God 'elp me!' An' then, sir, down comes Miss Lovel an' runs to 'er. 'Why, Babs!' says she, anxious-like. 'Oh, what is it, dearest?' At this, Mr. Anthony's lady begins to sob--'eart-breakin', sir! 'O Di,' says she, all wildlike, 'O Di dear, 'e wants me! 'E says I must go--to-night--an' I'm afraid.' So Miss Lovel, she kisses 'er an' they whisper together. Then Miss Lovel calls for 'er 'oss, an' away they ride very close together, an' Miss L.'s arm about 'er. Lord, sir, who'd a thought it o' Mr. Anthony? So wild an' fierce-like 'e were--enough to fright any woman, 'specially such a beautiful, gentle creetur' as 'is wife! Drink 's a fearsome thing!" "True, George. But Mr. Anthony would die rather than harm her, I am sure." "Maybe, sir--but 'e looked 'orrible wild an' fierce when 'e rode off--an' drink du be a tur'ble thing." "Now--touching a chaise, George--" "Chaise, sir?" "A black chaise picked out in yellow, with red wheels. You have seen such drive up to Raydon Manor, yonder, you told me once, I think?" "I did, sir, an' I 'ave--frequent! It do have drove up theer this very evening. But Lord, Mr. Vereker, be you a thinkin' o' walkin' out--an' night comin' on?" "I am, George." "'T will be dark soon, sir. And you 'ardly yourself, yet!" "No, George, there will be a moon." "But, sir, wot am I to tell your lady aunt?" "That I have taken a walk in quest of my health--and sanity, George." "Be you a-goin' fur, sir?" "No further than I need." "Then I think I'll go along wi' you, sir." "No, George, I may be back before the moon is up. At least--no, it will be high-risen when I return, most likely. Only pray assure my aunt that I am doing the very best for myself." So saying, I left the faithful George staring after me and shaking dubious head. I walked at a leisurely pace, deliberating how best to contrive the desperate task I had set myself to accomplish, how best to bring it to a final and certain issue. And presently up came the moon in glory and I stared up at her as one does who may behold her perhaps for the last time. Calm and serene she arose, and as I walked amid this tender light, I seemed to breathe in something of her passionless serenity and knew a strange exaltation of mind, placid and untroubled. Gone were my fever dreams, the foul horrors that had haunted me, and my obscene demons were vanished utterly away and with them, as it seemed, the inertia of my late sickness.