’ He made a pretence of rising and making a sortie to the corner to see if anyone was there. ’ Kimble’s eyes widened. ’ ‘Yes, that is Mr Brewis Charvill, as you have found out for me. Leaning upon a gate he looked down into the valley. “Do you know, I have been wondering what had become of you,” she said. There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. At the same moment a martial flourish, proceeding from cow's horns, tin canisters filled with stones, bladders and cat-gut, with other sprightly, instruments, was struck up, and, enlivened by this harmonious accompaniment, the troop reached its destination in the best possible spirits for an encounter. The fibre of his soul had to be tested, queerly, to make him worthy of you. That won’t involve references, as a bank account would—and all that sort of thing.
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