like way, he settled him on an arm and stepped briskly across gravel-walk
and lawn, like a horse to whose neck a smart touch of the whip has been
applied.

The soft mild night had a moon behind it somewhere; and here and there a
light-blue space of sky showed small rayless stars; the breeze smelt
fresh of roots and heath. It was more a May-night than one of February.
So strange an aspect had all these quiet hill-lines and larch and fir-
tree tops in the half-dark stillness, that the boy's terrors were
overlaid and almost subdued by his wonderment; he had never before been
out in the night, and he must have feared to cry in it, for his sobs were
not loud. On a rise of the park-road where a fir-plantation began, he
heard his name called faintly from the house by a woman's voice that he
knew to be his aunt Dorothy's. It came after him only once: 'Harry
Richmond'; but he was soon out of hearing, beyond the park, among the
hollows that run dipping for miles beside the great highroad toward
London. Sometimes his father whistled to him, or held him high and
nodded a salutation to him, as though they had just discovered one
another; and his perpetual accessibility to the influences of spicy
sugarplums, notwithstanding his grief, caused his father to prognosticate
hopefully of his future wisdom. So, when obedient to command he had
given his father a kiss, the boy fell asleep on his shoulder, ceasing to
know that he was a wandering infant: and, if I remember rightly, he
dreamed he was in a ship of cinnamon-wood upon a sea that rolled mighty,
but smooth immense broad waves, and tore thing from thing without a sound
or a hurt.