The fresh air, which blew in his face, greatly revived him. He forgot for the moment his own self-pity, the egotism of his own passionate love. There was an eerie sense of brooding menace about an uninhabited establishment. She thought of them as fools, but had been sorry to see them go. He laughed. Before he could draw in the rein, his steed—startled apparently by some object undistinguishable by the rider,—swerved with such suddenness as to unseat him, and precipitate him on the ground. ‘I am done, Gérard.
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