He could hear voices from the room beneath--Anthony's men talking there no doubt.

They might be his men, too, at the lifting of a finger--they and Dick.

There were the horses waiting without; he heard the jingle of a bit as one tossed his head.

Those were the horses that would go back to Dethick and Derby, and, may be, half over England.
He walked to and fro half a dozen times without speaking, and, if he had but guessed it, he might have been comforted to know that his manhood flowed in upon him, as a tide coming in over a flat beach.

These instants added more years to him than as many months that had gone before.