“Won’t do to get out of condition with this domestic spaniel life,” he said, with a laugh, and, drawing a long breath, he set off walking, taking long, regular strides, and getting over the ground at a tremendous pace for about half a mile, when he stopped short to smile complacently.
“Not bad that,” he said aloud, “put out my cigar though;” and, again sheltering himself behind a tree, he struck a match and relit the roll of tobacco.
“I must do a little more of this early of a morning,” he said, as he regained his breath, and cooled down gradually by slowly walking on, and as fate arranged it, entering the great fir clump on the side farthest from the lane.
“They say the smell of the fir is healthy, and does a man good,” said Rolph. “I’ll have a good sniff or two.”
There was more of the odour of tobacco, though, than of the pines, as with his footsteps deadened by the soft, half-decayed vegetable matter, he threaded his way amongst the tall trunks.
“Humph! moon rising! see the gates!” said Rolph, with a satisfied air, as if the great yellow orb, slowly rising above the wood and darting horizontal rays through the pines, were illumining the path for his special benefit. Then he looked at his watch. “Ten minutes too soon. But I dare say she’s waiting. If this place were mine I should have all these trees cut down for timber and firewood. Fetch a lot!”
The wondrous effects of black velvety darkness and golden lines of light were thrown away upon the young baronet, who saw in the pale gilding of the tree-trunks only so much to avoid.
All at once his thoughts took a turn in another direction, and unwittingly he began to ponder upon the intimacy that had grown up between the people at the Hall and the Alleynes.
“It’s a great mistake, and I don’t like it,” Rolph said to himself. “That fellow hangs about after Glynne like some great dog. I shall have to speak to the old man about it. Glynne doesn’t see it, of course, and I don’t mean that she should, but it gets to be confoundedly unpleasant to a—to a thoughtful man—to a man of the world. Wiser, perhaps, to have a few words with the fellow himself, and tell him what I think of his conduct. I will too,” he said, after a pause. “He is simply ignorant of the common decencies of society, or he wouldn’t do it. I shall—What the devil’s he doing here—come to watch?”
Rolph stopped short, completely astounded upon seeing, not two yards away, the statue-like figure of Alleyne, with arms folded, leaning against a tree, thoroughly intent upon his thoughts.