She would not sleep for fear of losing a moment of that sense of his proximity. He was entranced as she walked towards him. Making her couch upon a heap of hay, she sank at once into a deep and refreshing slumber. His features were regular, and finely-formed; his complexion bright and blooming,—a little shaded, however, by travel and exposure to the sun; and, with a praiseworthy contempt for the universal and preposterous fashion then prevailing, of substituting a peruke for the natural covering of the head, he allowed his own dark-brown hair to fall over his shoulders in ringlets as luxuriant as those that distinguished the court gallant in Charles the Second's days—a fashion, which we do not despair of seeing revived in our own days. But his lips were honourlocked. “You did not tell me that you were going out, or I would have offered my escort. But, in spite of his outcries and resistance, he was dragged along by Jonathan and his janizaries.
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