Presently the ascent grew more gradual, the hedges lower, and over their tops he could feel the upland air breathing coolly from the sea.

And now the sign-post hove in sight, and the cross-roads stretching whitely into distance.
If we take the town of Troy as a base, lying north and south, this sign-post forms the apex of a triangle which has two high-roads for its remaining sides--the one road entering Troy from the north by the hill which Sam had just ascended, the other running southwards and ending with a steep declivity at no great distance from "The Bower." It was by this southern road, of course, that Mrs.Goodwyn-Sandys would come.

Sam looked along it, but all as yet was silent.
He pulled out his watch again, and, finding that he had still twenty minutes to spare, set down his load at the foot of the signpost, and began to walk to and fro.
So gloomy were his reflections that, to soothe his nerves, he pulled out a cigar, lit it, and then, for lack of anything better to do, rekindled his lantern, and resumed his walk.
The cigar was barely half smoked when he heard a noise in the distance.
Yes, there was no doubt.

It was the sound of horses.

Sam caught up the portmanteau, and stared down the highway.