CHAPTER III. 



" Sit back a bit when he leps, sir, he can't abide touching 

 nothing with his hind legs," the ostler said, giving one 

 finishing touch with the cloth he had in his hand as Jack 

 Morgan issued from the archway of the inn yard. 



" All right, Tim ; I won't cut a voluntary in a strange land 

 if I can help it," was the reply, as Jack according to direc- 

 tions turned up the village street. 



A warm April sun overhead, tempered by a soft breeze 

 laden with the peculiar attributes of the sea, foretold any- 

 thing but a hunting day. " Never mind, it's a nice day to 

 ride about," Jack thought, and forthwith fell to observing 

 the country on either side of the road. A contrast indeed to 

 Dumpshire, especially on the best side of the Cranston 

 country, it certainly was ; small fields, banks, stone-faced or 

 otherwise, frequent stone walls, hills and valleys, and up 

 away in the distance, moorland. Yes, that peculiar red 

 brown, softened now and then by shadows, and shrouded in 

 a blue mistiness, could be nothing else but moorland. The 

 gorse here, there, and everywhere was in its beauty ; a golden 

 crown to some dyke, a patch of glorious colour on a hill- 

 side, handfuls of scattered gems in all directions. Occasion- 

 ally a brook babbled over its stony bed in a little valley, 

 disappeared into the vivid green of budding larches, and 

 issued forth to glitter in the sunshine beyond. Skylarks, 

 specks against the blue above, got rid of their superfluous 

 energies and expressed their spring joy at the same time. 

 Isolated trees upon hilltops testified by their slanting growth 

 to the fact that there were times when the strong south-west 

 wind swept in stormy gusts over the uplands ; but to-day 



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