All he thought of was the injustice
of Jane's sufferings. Added to this was an overpowering
desire to reach her side before her misery
should continue another moment; to fold her in his
arms, stand between her and the world; help her
to grapple with the horror which was slowly crushing
out her life. That it was past her hour for retiring,
and that there might be no one to answer his
summons, made no difference to him. He must see
her at all hazards before he closed his eyes.
As he whirled into the open gates of Yardley and
peered from under the hood of the gig at the outlines
of the old house, looming dimly through the avenue
of bushes, he saw that the occupants were asleep; no
lights shone from the upper windows and none
burned in the hall below. This discovery checked to
some extent the impetus with which he had flung
himself into the night, his whole being absorbed and
dominated by one idea. The cool wind, too, had
begun to tell upon his nerves. He drew rein on the
mare and stopped. For the first time since the captain's
story had reached his ears his reason began to
work. He was never an impetuous man; always a
thoughtful and methodical one, and always overparticular
in respecting the courtesies of life.
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