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Updated: May 16, 2025
Torrents were in store, for they coursed streamingly still and had not the higher lift, or eagle ascent, which he knew for one of the signs of fairness, nor had the hills any belt of mist-like vapour. On a step of the stile leading to the short-cut to Rendon young Crossjay was espied. A man-tramp sat on the top-bar. "There you are; what are you doing there? Where's Miss Middleton?" said Vernon.
Corney on the way to Rendon and hailed him, and gave his cheerless figure the nearest approach to an Irish bug in the form of a dry seat under an umbrella and water-proof covering. "Though it is the worst I can do for you, if you decline to supplement it with a dose of hot brandy and water at the Dolphin," said he: "and I'll see you take it, if you please.
Then put the horse before the cart, my son, and you shall have the two in harmony, and God speed ye! Rendon station, did you say, Vernon? You shall have my prescription at the Railway Arms, if you're hurried. You have the look. What is it? Can I help?" "No. And don't ask." "You're like the Irish Grenadier who had a bullet in a humiliating situation.
I'm bound to ease a Rendon patient out of the world. Medicine's one of their superstitions, which they cling to the harder the more useless it gets. Pill and priest launch him happy between them. 'And what's on your conscience, Pat? It's whether your blessing, your Riverence, would disagree with another drop.
At the breakfast-table she faced a clock. De Craye took out his watch. "You are five and a half minutes too slow by that clock, Willoughby." "The man omitted to come from Rendon to set it last week, Horace. He will find the hour too late here for him when he does come."
Vernon spun across the fields, timing himself by his watch to reach Rendon station ten minutes before eleven, though without clearly questioning the nature of the resolution which precipitated him. Dropping to the road, he had better foothold than on the slippery field-path, and he ran. His principal hope was that Clara would have missed her way. Another pelting of rain agitated him on her behalf.
Here's Rendon, and through it we go with a spanking clatter. Here's Doctor Corney's dog-cart post-haste again. For there's no dying without him now, and Repentance is on the death-bed for not calling him in before. Half a charge of humbug hurts no son of a gun, friend Vernon, if he'd have his firing take effect. Be tender to't in man or woman, particularly woman.
Still, as there was a possibility of the rain having been too much for her, and as he had no other speculation concerning the route she had taken, he decided upon keeping along the road to Rendon, with a keen eye at cottage and farmhouse windows.
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