And rising, Mohun bade the singular personage farewell, and went toward his horse.
I followed, and we rode back, rapidly, in dead silence, toward the Rowanty.
XII. — HOW THE MOMENT AT LAST CAME.
Mohun rode on for more than a mile at full gallop, without uttering a word. Then he turned his head, and said, with a sigh:—
“Well, what do you think of your new acquaintance, Surry?”
“I think she is an impostor.”
“As to her visions, you mean?”
“Yes. Her story of Darke I believe to be true.”