The light slowly grew, or rather, the darkness slowly thinned. All at once John became aware that, some yards away from him, there was something whitish. A moment, and it began to move like a flitting mist through the darkness. The same instant Sturdy began to pull his feet from the ground, and move after the mist, which rose and rose until it came for a second or two between John and the sky: it was a big white horse, with my uncle on his back: Death and he, John concluded, were out on one of their dark wanderings! His impulse, of course, was to follow them. But, as they went up the steep way, Sturdy came down on his old knees, and John got off his back to let him recover himself the easier. When they reached the level, where the moon, showing a blunt horn above the horizon, made it possible to see a little, the white horse and his rider had disappeared--in some shadow, or behind some knoll, I fancy; and John, having not the least notion in what part of the moor he was, or in which direction he ought to go, threw the reins on the horse's neck. Sturdy brought him back almost to his stable, before he knew where he was. Then he turned into the road, for he had had enough of the moor, and took the long way home. CHAPTER XXIX. MOTHER AND SON. In the morning he breakfasted alone. A son with a different sort of mother, might then have sought her in her bedroom; but John had never within his memory seen his mother in her bedroom, and after what lie had heard the night before, could hardly be inclined to go there to her now. Within half an hour, however, a message was brought him, requesting his presence in her ladyship's dressing-room. He went with his teeth set. “Whose horse is that in the stable, John?” she said, the moment their eyes met. “Mr. Whichcote's, madam,” answered John: _mother_ he could not say. “You intend to keep up your late relations with those persons?” “I do.” “You mean to marry the hussy?” “I mean to marry the lady to whom you give that epithet. There are those who think it not quite safe for you to call other people names!” She rose and came at him as if she would strike him. John stood motionless. Except a woman had a knife in her hand, he said, he would not even avoid a blow from her. “A woman can't hurt you much; she can only break your heart!” he said. “My mother would not know a heart when she had broken it!” he added. He stood and looked at her. She turned away, and sat down again. I think she felt the term of her power at hand. “The man told you then, that, if you did not return immediately, I would get him into trouble?” “He has told me nothing. I have not seen him for some days. I have been to London.” “You should have contrived your story better: you contradict yourself.” “I am not aware that I do.” “You have the man's horse!” “His horse is in my stable; he is not himself at home.” “Fled from justice! It shall not avail him!”