" Then for one moment they
fell into each other's arms and with kiss upon kiss, a loving man
and a tender woman, they swore their troth to each other. But the
old knight was calling impatiently from below and together they
hurried down the winding path to where the horses waited under the
sandy bluff.
As far as the Shalford crossing Sir John rode by Nigel's arm, and
many were the last injunctions which he gave him concerning
woodcraft, and great his anxiety lest he confuse a spay with a
brocket, or either with a hind. At last when they came to the
reedy edge of the Wey the old knight and his daughter reined up
their horses. Nigel looked back at them ere he entered the dark
Chantry woods, and saw them still gazing after him and waving
their hands. Then the path wound amongst the trees and they were
lost to sight; but long afterwards when a clearing exposed once
more the Shalford meadows Nigel saw that the old man upon the gray
cob was riding slowly toward Saint Catharine's Hill, but that the
girl was still where he had seen her last, leaning forward in her
saddle and straining her eyes to pierce the dark forest which
screened her lover from her view. It was but a fleeting glance
through a break in the foliage, and yet in after days of stress
and toil in far distant lands it was that one little picture--the
green meadow, the reeds, the slow blue-winding river, and the
eager bending graceful figure upon the white horse--which was the
clearest and the dearest image of that England which he had left
behind him.
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