Yet he walked on.
It was absolutely still; though the sun had now risen clear of the mists and was glittering in a clear heaven, there was no one abroad.
The Duke approached the cottage, saying to himself–
“I know this place, and I do not wish to see it again.”
Before the wooden gate of the tiny garden he paused.
A few modest flowers were growing in neat beds–pinks, wallflowers, and sweet williams; beside the closed door was a lavender bush.
The Duke’s sensation of dread deepened. He noticed that a white blind hung behind each of the four windows. He felt that he was there against his will. Peaceful and lovely as the scene was, it was one from which he would willingly have fled.
He left the garden and wandered away into the little wood and seated himself under a pine tree and took his head in his hands.
And as he sat there he heard the church bell tolling.