" "Then it was not a dream!" ejaculated Sir Rowland in a hollow voice, and as if speaking to himself. ” He plunged into one of his drawers, and brought up a small gold-foiled bottle. Pistols and pictures? Now it fair goes agin’ me nature to act rough with a lady, but you’ll come along of me at once. You didn’t even put the twelve words. " "Are you man, or fiend?" exclaimed Trenchard, staring at the stranger, as he concluded his narration. Here he was preparing to leap over the hedge into the fields on the left, when he was intercepted by two horsemen, who, hearing the shouts, rode up and struck at him with the butt-ends of their heavy riding-whips.
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