"Each man's homestead is his golden milestone,
Is the central point from which he measures
Every distance
Through the gateways of the world around him."

There are certain months in every life which seem to be full of fate,
good or evil, for that life; and May was Katherine Hyde's luck month. It
was on a May afternoon that Hyde had asked her love; it was on a May
night she fled with him through the gray shadows of the misty river.
Since then a year had gone by, and it was May once more,--an English
May, full of the magic of the month; clear skies, and young foliage, and
birds' songs, the cool, woody smell of wall-flowers, and the ethereal
perfume of lilies.

In Hyde Manor House, there was that stir of preparation which indicates
a departure. The house was before time; it had the air of early rising;
the atmosphere of yesterday had not been dismissed, but lingered
around, and gave the idea of haste and change, and departure from
regular custom. It was, indeed, an hour before the usual breakfast-time;
but Hyde and Katharine were taking a hasty meal together. Hyde was in
full uniform, his sword at his side, his cavalry cap and cloak on a
chair near him; and up and down the gravelled walk before the main
entrance a groom was leading his horse.

"I must see what is the matter with Mephisto," said Hyde. "How he is
snorting and pawing! And if Park loses control of him, I shall be
greatly inconvenienced for both horse and time."