Before he could draw in the rein, his steed—startled apparently by some object undistinguishable by the rider,—swerved with such suddenness as to unseat him, and precipitate him on the ground. Sometimes he was obviously irritable and uncomfortable and unfortunate in his efforts to seem at ease. Left to Capting Roding, as he told me hisself, you’d be in prison this moment. But, as soon as he perceived who it was, he roused himself, and glared fiercely at the intruder from under his bent brows. “No, I’d like to. Wood is now in very affluent circumstances. En tout cas, I am not trespassing at all. Half a minute, Vee.
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