turns out an unfortunate field-mouse, and amuses himself to his great satisfaction.
One o'clock! No carriage, no sound of wheels. Captain Alvanley, Sir! what are you thinking about, to keep a gentleman and lady waiting in this way? I will walk down the Avenue-road, to see if Amy is on the watch. Softly! there she is! bonneted and shawled, sitting at her open window. How the moonlight falls full upon her face! Captain Alvanley, if you could now see that face, and its intense expression of anxious expectation, you would give your post-boys any fabulous fee to whirl you the sooner to your Amy's side. She sees me at once as I emerge from the avenue, and I come softly under her window. She points within, as though towards her mother's room, and lays her finger on her lips. No talking allowed; I take the hint, and am speechless. She looks full upon me with those deep-blue eyes, and she lays her hand upon her heart, and bends towards me. She is thanking me for my vigil. Then she folds her hands together, and looks inquiringly. I shake my head in reply, and point towards the North-road. Then we go through a little ballet of action, and I am almost inclined to pirouette on one toe, as I signify to her that I will return to my post, and keep on the watch. And so I turn away while she dumbly expresses her thanks.
I walk back to my mile-stone, and light another weed. Trap don't understand it at all, and sits in the road, and yawns; so I throw stones to divert him. But even this lively pastime fails on too great repetition. Still no carriage! I watch the scented smoke curling lightly from my lips, and I begin to think of "Locksley Hall:"—
