Upon these logs, basking in the sunlight, lay small tortoises by the score.

A snake glided across the road in front of the horses, and from a bit of muddy ground rose a cloud of yellow butterflies.
The Colonel yawned for the third time, looked at his watch, sighed, lifted his finely arched brows with a whimsical smile for his own somnolence; then, with an "I beg your pardon, my love," took out a lace handkerchief, spread it over his face and head, and, crossing his legs, sunk back into the capacious corner of the coach.

In three minutes the placid rise and fall of his ruffles bore witness that he slept.
The horseman, who, riding beside the lowered glass, had at intervals conversed with the occupants of the coach, now glanced from the sleeping gentleman to the lady, in whose dark, almond-shaped eyes lurked no sign of drowsiness.

The pond had been passed, and before them, between low banks crowned with ferns and overshadowed by beech-trees, lay a long stretch of shady road.
Haward drew rein, dismounted, and motioned to the coachman to check the horses.

When the coach had come to a standstill, he opened the door with as little creaking as might be, and held out a petitionary hand.