The washerwoman reported that she had seen a man one day riding out for an early morning hunt, but was unsure of his identity. I must have been very wound up. Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate. Suddenly, she heard the crunch of new feet on the gravel. Jonathan nodded assent. A hollow feeling opened up inside her, and she felt her heartbeat quicken.
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