"What's that you're taking to Sir Rowland Trenchard's?" "Only a box, Sir," answered Sheppard, emptying the glass. "I suppose I must have been senseless for some time; for, on coming to myself, I found this gash in my head, and the ground covered with blood. Crack went the whip, and away floundered the heavy vehicle through the deep ruts of the ill-kept road, or rather lane, (for it was little better,) which, then, led across Southampton Fields. "Well, you never can tell," he continued, lamely. I owed his father a grudge: that I settled long ago. The shouts drew nearer, and lights were seen flashing ruddily against the sides and gables of the neighbouring houses.
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