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disquiet； however； lingered about him； and would yield to nothing。
When he closed his eyes again； he felt it hovering near； as he
slowly sunk into a slumber； he was conscious of its gathering
strength and purpose； and gradually assuming its recent shape；
when he sprang up from his bed； the same phantom vanished
from his heated brain； and left him filled with a dread against
which reason and waking thought were powerless。
The sun was up； before he could shake it off。 He rose late； but
not refreshed； and remained within doors all that day。 He had a
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fancy for paying his last visit to the old spot in the evening； for he
had been accustomed to walk there at that season； and desired to
see it under the aspect that was most familiar to him。 At such an
hour as would afford him time to reach it a little before sunset； he
left the inn； and turned into the busy street。
He had not gone far； and was thoughtfully making his way
among the noisy crowd； when he felt a hand upon his shoulder；
and； turning； recognised one of the waiters from the inn； who
begged his pardon； but he had left his sword behind him。
‘Why have you brought it to me？’ he asked； stretching out his
hand； and yet not taking it from the man； but looking at him in a
disturbed and agitated manner。
The man was sorry to have disobliged him； and would carry it
back again。 The gentleman had said that he was going a little way
into the country； and that he might not return until late。 The roads
were not very safe for single travellers after dark； and； since the
riots； gentlemen had been more careful than ever； not to trust
themselves unarmed in lonely places。 ‘We thought you were a
stranger； sir；’ he added； ‘and that you might believe our roads to
be better than they are； but perhaps you know them well； and
carry fire…arms—’
He took the sword； and putting it up at his side； thanked the
man； and resumed his walk。
It was long remembered that he did this in a manner so
strange； and with such a trembling hand； that the messenger stood
looking after his retreating figure； doubtful whether he ought not
to follow； and watch him。 It was long remembered that he had
been heard pacing his bedroom in the dead of the night； that the
attendants had mentioned to each other in the morning； how
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fevered and how pale he looked； and that when this man went
back to the inn； he told a fellow…servant that what he had observed
in this short interview lay very heavy on his mind； and that he
feared the gentleman intended to destroy himself； and would
never come back alive。
With a half…consciousness that his manner had attracted the
man’s attention （remembering the expression of his face when
they parted）； Mr Haredale quickened his steps； and arriving at a
stand of coaches； bargained with the driver of the best to carry
him so far on his road as the point where the footway struck across
the fields； and to await his return at a house of entertainment
which was within a stone’s…throw of that place。 Arriving there in
due course； he alighted and pursued his way on foot。
He passed so near the Maypole； that he could see its smoke
rising from among the trees； while a flock of pigeons—some of its
old inhabitants； doubtless—sailed gaily home to roost； between
him and the unclouded sky。 ‘The old house will brighten up now；’
he said； as he looked towards it； ‘and there will be a merry fireside
beneath its ivied roof。 It is some comfort to know that everything
will not be blighted hereabouts。 I shall be glad to have one picture
of life and cheerfulness to turn to； in my mind！’
He resumed his walk； and bent his steps towards the Warren。 It
was a clear； calm； silent evening； with hardly a breath of wind to
stir the leaves； or any sound to break the stillness of the time； but
drowsy sheep…bells tinkling in the distance； and； at intervals； the
far…off lowing of cattle； or bark of village dogs。 The sky was radiant
with the softened glory of sunset； and on the earth； and in the air；
a deep repose prevailed。 At such an hour； he arrived at the
deserted mansion which had been his home so long； and looked
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for the last time upon its blackened walls。
The ashes of the commonest fire are melancholy things； for in
them there is an image of death and ruin；—of something that has
been bright； and is but dull； cold； dreary dust；—with which our
nature forces us to sympathise。 How much more sad the crumbled
embers of a home： the casting down of that great altar； where the
worst among us sometimes perform the worship of the heart； and
where the best have offered up such sacrifices； and done such
deeds of heroism； as； chronicled； would put the proudest temples
of old Time； with all their vaunting annals； to the blush！
He roused himself from a long train of meditation； and walked
slowly round the house。 It was by this time almost dark。
He had nearly made the circuit of the building； when he uttered
a half…suppressed exclamation； started； and stood still。 Reclining；
in an easy attitude； with his back against a tree； and contemplating
the ruin with an expression of pleasure；—a pleasure so keen that it
overcame his habitual indolence and command of feature； and
displayed itself utterly free from all restraint or reserve；—before
him； on his own ground； and triumphing then； as he had
triumphed in every misfortune and disappointment of his life；
stood the man whose presence； of all mankind； in any place； and
least of all in that； he