her head two or three times, and Ralph, with Mr. Carleton, stood on the
gravel below, his hand on Chris's crupper, smiling up at him.

"Good-bye, Chris," he said, and added with an unusual piety, "God keep
you!"

As the two horses passed through the gatehouse, Chris turned once again
with swimming eyes, and saw the group a little re-arranged. Sir James
and Ralph were standing together, Ralph's arm thrust through his
father's; Mr. Carleton was still on the gravel, and Lady Torridon was
walking very deliberately back to the house.

* * * * *

The distance to Lewes was about fourteen miles, and it was not until
they had travelled some two of them, and had struck off towards Burgess
Hill that Chris turned his head for Mr. Morris to come up.

It was very strange to him to ride through that familiar country, where
he had ridden hundreds of times before, and to know that this was
probably the last time that he would pass along those lanes, at least
under the same circumstances. It had the same effect on him, as a death
in the house would have; the familiar things were the same, but they
wore a new and strange significance. The few men and children he passed
saluted him deferentially as usual, and then turned fifty yards further
on and stared at the young gentleman who, as they knew, was riding off
on such an errand, and with such grave looks.

Mr. Morris came up with an eager respectfulness at Chris's sign, keeping
a yard or two away lest the swinging luggage on his own horse should