the 10.50 express on the following morning, for the young barrister
awoke with such a splitting headache, that he asked George to send him a
cup of the strongest green tea that had ever been made at the Sun, and
to be furthermore so good as to defer their journey until the next day.
Of course George assented, and Robert Audley spent the forenoon in a
darkened room with a five-days'-old Chelmsford paper to entertain
himself withal.

"It's nothing but the cigars, George," he said, repeatedly. "Get me out
of the place without my seeing the landlord; for if that man and I meet
there will be bloodshed."

Fortunately for the peace of Audley, it happened to be market-day at
Chelmsford; and the worthy landlord had ridden off in his chaise-cart to
purchase supplies for his house--among other things, perhaps, a fresh
stock of those very cigars which had been so fatal in their effect upon
Robert.

The young men spent a dull, dawdling, stupid, unprofitable day; and
toward dusk Mr. Audley proposed that they should stroll down to the
Court, and ask Alicia to take them over the house.

"It will kill a couple of hours, you know, George: and it seems a great
pity to drag you away from Audley without having shown you the old
place, which, I give you my honor, is very well worth seeing."

The sun was low in the skies as they took a short cut through the
meadows, and crossed a stile into the avenue leading to the archway--a
lurid, heavy-looking, ominous sunset, and a deathly stillness in the
air, which frightened the birds that had a mind to sing, and left the