"Let the gentleman take his own course," said Jonathan, mildly. Wood set off at full speed from the Mint, and, hurrying he scarce knew whither (for there was such a continual buzzing in his ears and dancing in his eyes, as almost to take away the power of reflection), he held on at a brisk pace till his strength completely failed him. He smothered it down with such a good will that the reaction set his heart to pounding. Awful shapes seemed to flit by, borne on the wings of the tempest, animating and directing its fury. I'll try to think better of him in future.
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