.

ON THE ROAD TO THE ACT OF PENANCE.
His customary wrestle with the night drove Lord Fleetwood in the stillness of the hour after matins from his hated empty Esslemont up again to the village of the long-lived people, enjoying the moist earthiness of the air off the ironstone.

He rode fasting, a good preparatory state for the simple pleasures, which are virtually the Great Nourisher's teats to her young.

The earl was relieved of his dejection by a sudden filling of his nostrils.

Fat Esslemont underneath had no such air.