Page:The Unspeakable Gentleman (IA unspeakablegent00marq).pdf/211

 again and laid a hand on his withers, but still he did not mount. I think he was staring into the night before him and listening, as I had been. Then he turned again slowly, and half faced me. On the wind, far off still, but nevertheless distinct, was the sound of voices.

"It is time we were going," said my father. "I only gave them the slip five minutes back. It was closer work than I had expected."

And then he started, and looked at me more intently through the darkness.

"Name of the devil!" said my father. "How did you get here?"

But that was all. He never even started. His hand still rested tranquilly on the reins and he still half faced me. Had it been so on that other night long ago, when his world crumbled to ruins about him? Did he always win and lose with the same passive acquiescence? Did nothing ever astonish him? There was a moment's silence, and I felt his eyes on me, and suddenly became very cautious. I knew well enough he would not let it finish in such a manner, but what could he do? The game was in my hands.