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Having no means of defence, Sir Rowland cleared the blood from his vision; and, turning to see whether there was any means of escape, he descried the open door behind him leading to the Well Hole, and instantly darted through it. And his scarlet coat had nothing to do with it, as Hilary was fond of recounting, for he had been in civilian clothes when they met, as he was tonight. That world of fine printed cambrics and escorted maidens, of delicate secondary meanings and refined allusiveness, presented itself to her imagination with the brightness of a lost paradise, as indeed for many women it is a lost paradise. The room was dark and dusty. Originally built, as its name imports, in a cylindrical form, like a modern Martello tower, it had undergone, from time to time, so many alterations, that its symmetry was, in a great measure, destroyed. "Your audacity passes belief," cried the latter, as soon as his surprise would allow him utterance. ‘It is in truth you?’ ‘Of course it is I. ” “Have I done something wrong? Should I take you home?” “No. ‘The place was full of barbers and military men. ‘Yes, but I’m probably chasing moonbeams. ’ ‘Only in hot blood, eh?’ grinned Gerald.
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