They sat down, McClintock reaching for a lump of sugar which he began munching. A swift frown brought the still dark brows together for a moment. . "What motive have you for concealment?" he demanded. Curses light on the horse!" he added, seizing the bridle of his steed, who continued snorting and shivering, as if still under the influence of some unaccountable alarm; "what can ail him?" "I know what ails him, your honour," rejoined the groom, riding up as he spoke; "he's seen somethin' not o' this world. And, fearing you might not come to me, I forced my way hither, even with certainty of discomposing your friends. This is where my character, Lucia, is coming from. It was horrible, but she must do it. uh.
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