Was fast approaching; up th' unclouded sky
The glorious moon pursued her path of light,
And shed a silv'ry splendor far and nigh;
No sound, save of the night-wind's gentlest sigh,
Could reach the ear."
A dead silence reigns between them: they both gaze with admirable perseverance at the horse's ears. Never before has that good animal been troubled by two such steady stares. Then Lilian stirs slightly, and a little chattering sound escapes her, that rouses Guy to speech.
"You are tired?" he says, in freezing tones.
"Very."
"Cold?"
"Very."