The Duke rode steadily on beneath his ancestral trees, the hoofs of his horse sending up a smart sound now that he had reached the hard road of the drive, and soon drew near the front door of his house, surmounted by parapets with square-cut battlements that cast a notched shade upon the gravelled terrace.

These outlines were quite familiar to little Bill Mills, though nothing within their boundary had ever been seen by him.
When the rider approached the mansion a small turret door was quickly opened and a woman came out.

As soon as she saw the horseman's outlines she ran forward into the moonlight to meet him.
'Ah dear--and are you come ?' she said.

'I heard Hero's tread just when you rode over the hill, and I knew it in a moment.

I would have come further if I had been aware--' 'Glad to see me, eh ?' 'How can you ask that ?' 'Well; it is a lovely night for meetings.' 'Yes, it is a lovely night.' The Duke dismounted and stood by her side.