The latter no sooner beheld him than he dashed hastily into an adjoining room. It was a spring-tide at half ebb; and the current, which was running fast and furiously, bore him instantly away. “You know,” he went on, “this doesn’t seem to me to end anything. Take my word for it, your troubles are over. Also, you must send someone to fetch my horse—at least, it is not mine but I have borrowed it to come here—because it will be dark very soon and—’ ‘Woof! Hold it, hold it,’ begged the sergeant. It had been Ann Veronica’s lot as the youngest child to live in a home that became less animated and various as she grew up.
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