On hearing this positive affirmation, the young Englishman sat for a moment, as if wrapt in a profound and painful reverie. His breast rose and fell as though some terrible truth was breaking upon him, which he was endeavouring to disbelieve.
At this moment, Quashie caught the rein of the bridle, and was about to lead the pony into the bye-path.
“No!” shouted the rider, in a voice loud and angry. “Let go, boy! let go, or I’ll give you the whip. This is my way.”
And, wrenching the rein from the grasp of his sable guide, he headed the pony back into the main avenue.
Then laying on the lash with all his might, he pressed forward, at full gallop, in the direction of the “great house.”
Volume One—Chapter Fifteen.
A Slippery Floor.
The carriage conveying Mr Montagu Smythje from Montego Bay to Mount Welcome, passed up the avenue and arrived at the great house, just one hour before Herbert Vaughan, mounted on his rough roadster, and guided by Quashie, made his appearance at the entrance-gate of the plantation.