The face that looked down upon Ann Veronica was full of amiable intention. Once more breaking through the hedge he took to the fields. ‘I am glad it is you, because you can help me. With this view, he hurried to the spot where he had left the post-chaise, and found it drawn up at the road-side, the postilion dismounted, and in charge of a couple of farming-men. A moment before, the surface of the stream was black as ink. Grasping it firmly with both hands, he quickly wrenched if from the stones in which it was mortised, and leapt to the ground.
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