Twelve o'clock struck; he looked out at the colourless moon, and, prompted by he knew not what, put on his hat and emerged into the air.

Here William Mills strolled on and on, till he reached the top of Marlbury Downs, a spot he had not visited at this hour of the night during the whole score-and-odd years.
He placed himself, as nearly as he could guess, on the spot where the shepherd's hut had stood.

No lambing was in progress there now, and the old shepherd who had used him so roughly had ceased from his labours that very day.

But the trilithon stood up white as ever; and, crossing the intervening sward, the steward fancifully placed his mouth against the stone.

Restless and self-reproachful as he was, he could not resist a smile as he thought of the terrifying oath of compact, sealed by a kiss upon the stones of a Pagan temple.