How Barnabas Saved His Life--Because He Was Afraid

On went Barnabas swift of foot and light of heart, walking through a
World of Romance, and with his eyes turned up to the luminous heaven.
Yet it was neither of the moon, nor the stars, nor the wonder
thereof that he was thinking, but only of the witchery of a woman's
eyes, and the thrill of a woman's lips upon his cheek; and, indeed,
what more natural, more right, and altogether proper? Little recked
he of the future, of the perils and dangers to be encountered, of
the sorrows and tribulations that lay in wait for him, or of the
enemies that he had made that day, for youth is little given to
brooding, and is loftily indifferent to consequences.

So it was of Lady Cleone Meredith he thought as he strode along the
moonlit highway, and it was of her that he was thinking as he turned
into that narrow by-lane where stood "The Spotted Cow." As he
advanced, he espied some one standing in the shadow of one of the
great trees, who, as he came nearer, stepped out into the moonlight;
and then Barnabas saw that it was none other than his newly engaged
valet. The same, yet not the same, for the shabby clothes had given
place to a sober, well-fitting habit, and as he took off his hat in
salutation, Barnabas noticed that his hollow cheeks were clean and
freshly shaved; he was, indeed, a new man.

But now, as they faced each other, Barnabas observed something else;
John Peterby's lips were compressed, and in his eye was anxiety, the
which had, somehow, got into his voice when he spoke, though his
tone was low and modulated: "Sir, if you are for London to-night, we
had better start at once, the coach leaves Tenterden within the hour."