human
There is no battle in prospect, he said;
gpt
Take your own advice, doctor, was Shirley's response. To Caroline she murmured,
human
I'll borrow of imagination what reality will not give me. We are not soldiers--bloodshed is not my desire--or if we are, we are soldiers of the Cross. Time has rolled back some hundreds of years, and we are bound on a pilgrimage to Palestine. But no; that is too visionary. I need a sterner dream. We are Lowlanders of Scotland, following a Covenanting captain up into the hills to hold a meeting out of the reach of persecuting troopers. We know that battle may follow prayer; and as we believe that in the worst issue of battle heaven must be our reward, we are ready and willing to redden the peat-moss with our blood. That music stirs my soul; it wakens all my life; it makes my heart beat--not with its temperate daily pulse, but with a new, thrilling vigour. I almost long for danger--for a faith, a land, or at least a lover to defend.
gpt
Look, Shirley! interrupted Caroline.
human
What is that red speck above Stilbro' Brow? You have keener sight than I. Just turn your eagle eye to it.
gpt
I see, she said; then added presently,
human
she subjoined quickly.
gpt
They ride fast. There are six of them. They will pass us. No; they have turned off to the right. They saw our procession, and avoid it by making a circuit. Where are they going?
human
Perhaps they are only exercising their horses.
gpt
Perhaps so. We see them no more now.
human
We shall pass through Royd Lane, to reach Nunnely Common by a short cut,