He saw it half a mile from the house, lost it, then caught it again, crowning like a star the low hilltop.

Bending from the saddle, he opened the gate, passed through, and rode on beneath the oaks to the house door.

The light shone from the library.

When a negro had taken his horse, the younger Cary entered to find his brother sitting before a mass of books and papers, wine on the table, and a favourite dog asleep upon the hearth.

"You are late," said the elder, looking up with a smile.