“Shall I go with you?”
“O, no; I must not spoil your sport. I am better now a great deal; it is going off fast. Come, let us proceed, or we shall be too late at cover.”
Austin had resolved to conquer his feelings. His friend had no suspicion, it is true; but when we are guilty we imagine that everybody suspects us. They rode a few minutes in silence.
“Well I am glad that you did not go home,” observed his friend; “for you will meet your new neighbour; he has subscribed to the pack, and they say he is well mounted; we shall see how he rides.”
Austin made no reply; but, after riding on a few yards farther, he pulled up, saying that the pain was coming on again, and that he could not proceed. His companion expressed his sorrow at Austin’s indisposition, and they separated.
Austin immediately returned home, dismounted his horse, and hastened to his private sitting-room. Mrs Austin, who had seen him return, and could not imagine the cause, went in to her husband.
“What is the matter, my dear?” said Mrs Austin.
“Matter!” replied Austin, bitterly, pacing up and down the room; “heaven and hell conspire against us!”
“Dear Austin, don’t talk in that way. What has happened?”
“Something which will compel me, I expect, to remain a prisoner in my own house, or lead to something unpleasant. We must not stay here.”