“Aye, but how? Here is no sort of conveyance unless it be a posting nag. Can you ride, girl?”
“No, sir.”
“A-pillion?”
“I should tumble off, sir.... But we’ve got legs, your honour——”
“Limbs, child!”
“An’ I be a good walker an’ main strong, sir——”
“Aye, as a goddess o’ the groves and fountains, Rose.”
“An’ ’tis a mortal fine night, your honour! And look at the moon—so splendid an’ all!”
“Splendid indeed, Rose!” And, opening the lattice, Sir John leaned out into a radiant night very calm and still—breathed an air soft and fragrant, saw the gleaming highway barred and fretted by the black shadows of the sombre trees—a magically alluring road, a way mysterious to woo the adventurous.
Sir John sighed and drew in his head.