Harry with all his dreams, arising from the enormous impression made upon him by Jackson, could not yet foresee what lay before him.
He was returning on foot from one of his shorter errands.

He had ridden throughout the afternoon, but the time came when he thought the horse ought to rest, and with the coming of the twilight he had walked.

He was not conscious of any weakness.

His body, in a way, had become a mere mechanism.

It worked, because the will acted upon it like a spring, but it was detached, separate from his mind.