Book One - Chapter 2 I Set Out

The clock of the square-towered Norman church, a mile away, was
striking the hour of four as I let myself out into the morning.
It was dark as yet, and chilly, but in the east was already a
faint glimmer of dawn. Reaching the stables, I paused with my
hand on the door-hasp, listening to the hiss, hissing that told me
Adam, the groom, was already at work within. As I entered he
looked up from the saddle he was polishing and touched his
forehead with a grimy forefinger.

"You be early abroad, Mr. Peter."

"Yes," said I. "I wish to be on Shooter's Hill at sunrise; but
first I came to say 'good-by' to 'Wings.'"

"To be sure, sir," nodded Adam, picking up his lanthorn.

Upon the ensuing interview I will not dwell; it was affecting
both to her and to myself, for we were mutually attached.

"Sir," said Adam, when at last the stable door had closed behind
us, "that there mare knows as you're a-leaving her."

"I think she does, Adam."

"'Osses be wonderful wise, sir!"

"Yes, Adam."

"This is a bad day for Wings, sir--and all of us, for that
matter."

"I hope not, Adam."

"You be a-going away, they tell me, sir?"

"Yes, going away," I nodded.