None of this by-play escaped Ruth, whose sense of humour needed no developing. Lucy looked at her with a small measure of pity. She had left for ever the cage, the galling leash: she was free. Earles declared. Uttering a few inarticulate ejaculations,—for he was completely out of breath,— the fugitive placed a bundle in the arms of the carpenter, and, regardless of the consternation he excited in the breast of that personage, who was almost stupified with astonishment, he began to divest himself of a heavy horseman's cloak, which he threw over Wood's shoulder, and, drawing his sword, seemed to listen intently for the approach of his pursuers. For in life there is but one hour: an epic or an idyll: all other hours lead up to and down from it. 4. I tell you that I love you, Anna, and I believe that you love me.
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