” “Then, by God!” he said, “you’ll be locked up!” Ann Veronica was disconcerted for a moment. Something about the girl had suggested an idea. “Call me Annabel. Curses light on the horse!" he added, seizing the bridle of his steed, who continued snorting and shivering, as if still under the influence of some unaccountable alarm; "what can ail him?" "I know what ails him, your honour," rejoined the groom, riding up as he spoke; "he's seen somethin' not o' this world. And now, Sir Rowland," he continued, turning to the knight, "to our own concerns.
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