Peter had not been gone many seconds, when a dark figure, muffled in a wide black mantle, emerged from among the tombs surrounding the church; gazed after him for a few seconds, and then, with a menacing gesture, retreated behind the ivied buttresses of the gray old pile.
CHAPTER III
THE PARK
Brian. Ralph! hearest thou any stirring?
Ralph. I heard one speak here, hard by, in the hollow. Peace! master, speak low. Nouns! if I do not hear a bow go off, and the buck bray, I never heard deer in my life.
Bri. Stand, or I'll shoot.
Sir Arthur. Who's there?
Bri. I am the keeper, and do charge you stand.
You have stolen my deer.