The sun had just sunk behind the western hills; but those mild gleams which characterize his setting at the close of April, had communicated to the clouds that peculiarly soft and golden tint, on which the eye loves to rest, but from which its light was now gradually fading.

When fresh horses had been put to, a stranger, who had previously seen two large trunks secured on the top, in a few minutes took his place beside the guard, and the coach proceeded.
"Guard," he inquired, after they had gone a couple of miles from the village, "I am quite ignorant of the age of the moon.

When shall we have moonlight ?" "Not till it's far in the night, sir." "The coach passes through the town of Ballytrain, does it not ?" "It does, sir." "At what hour do we arrive there ?" "About half-past three in the morning sir." The stranger made no reply, but cast his eyes over the aspect of the surrounding country.
The night was calm, warm, and balmy.

In the west, where the sun had gone down, there could still be noticed the faint traces of that subdued splendor with which he sets in spring.

The stars were up, and the whole character of the sky and atmosphere was full of warmth, and softness, and hope.