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Cooke, John Esten, 1830-1886

"Mohun, or, the Last Days of Lee"


Such was the scene within the mansion, upon which I gazed with strong
curiosity: suddenly the neigh of a horse was heard in a clump of woods
beyond the front gate; and Darke quickly raised his head, and then came
out to the portico.
He passed within three feet of me, but did not perceive me, as I was
concealed by one of the open venetians. Then he paused and listened.
The wind sighed in the foliage, and a distant watch-dog was
barking--that was all. No other noise disturbed the silence of the July
night.
Darke remained upon the portico for some moments, listening
attentively. Then turned and re-entered the house. Through the window,
I could see him make his appearance again in the illuminated apartment.
In response to the glances of inquiry from his companions he made a
gesture only, but that said plainly:--
"Nothing is stirring. You can go on with your work."
In this, however, he was mistaken. Darke had scarcely re-entered the
apartment, when I discerned the hoof-strokes of horses beyond the front
gate--then the animals were heard leaping the low fence--a moment
afterward two figures came on at full gallop, threw themselves from the
saddle, and rapidly approached the house.
The rattle of a sabre which one of them wore attracted Darke's
attention. He reached the door of the room at a single bound--but at
the same instant the new comers rushed by me, and burst in.


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