He came so swiftly and so direct, that, ere the sun had been down twenty
minutes, he and his smoking horse had reached a winding gorge about
three furlongs from the church. Here, however, the bridle-road, which
had hitherto served his turn across the moor, turned off sharply
toward the village of Cairnhope, and the horse had to pick his way
over heather, and bog, and great loose stones. He lowered his nose, and
hesitated more than once. But the rein was loose upon his neck, and he
was left to take his time. He had also his own tracks to guide him in
places, for this was by no means his first visit; and he managed so
well, that at last he got safe to a mountain stream which gurgled past
the north side of the churchyard: he went cautiously through the water,
and then his rider gathered up the reins, stuck in the spurs, and put
him at a part of the wall where the moonlight showed a considerable
breach. The good horse rose to it, and cleared it, with a foot to spare;
and the invader landed in the sacred precincts unobserved, for the
road he had come by was not visible from Raby House, nor indeed was the
church itself.

He was of swarthy complexion, dressed in a plain suit of tweed, well
made, and neither new nor old. His hat was of the newest fashion, and
glossy. He had no gloves on.

He dismounted, and led his horse to the porch. He took from his pocket a
large glittering key and unlocked the church-door; then gave his horse
a smack on the quarter. That sagacious animal walked into the church
directly, and his iron hoofs rang strangely as he paced over the brick
floor of the aisle, and made his way under the echoing vault, up to
the very altar; for near it was the vestry-chest, and in that chest his
corn.