own and had a drink. Some of them, including the Semi-drunk, Ned
Dawson, Bill Bates and Joe Philpot--had two or three drinks, and felt
so much happier for them that, shortly after they started off again,
sounds of melody were heard from the brake the three first named rode
in--the one presided over by Crass--but it was not very successful, and
even after the second halt--about five miles further on--at the
Warrior's Head, they found it impossible to sing with any heartiness.
Fitful bursts of song arose from time to time from each of the brakes
in turn, only to die mournfully away. It is not easy to sing on an
empty stomach even if one has got a little beer in it; and so it was
with most of them. They were not in a mood to sing, or to properly
appreciate the scenes through which they were passing. They wanted
their dinners, and that was the reason why this long ride, instead of
being a pleasure, became after a while, a weary journey that seemed as
if it were never coming to an end.

The next stop was at the Bird in Hand, a wayside public house that
stood all by itself in a lonely hollow. The landlord was a fat,
jolly-looking man, and there were several customers in the bar--men who
looked like farm-labourers, but there were no other houses to be seen
anywhere. This extraordinary circumstance exercised the minds of our
travellers and formed the principal topic of conversation until they
arrived at the Dew Drop Inn, about half an hour afterwards. The first
brake, containing Rushton and his friends, passed on without stopping
here. The occupants of the second brake, which was only a little way
behind the first, were divided in opinion whether to stop or go on.
Some shouted out to the driver to pull up, others ordered him to
proceed, and more were undecided which course to pursue--a state of
mind that was not shared by the coachman, who, knowing that if they
stopped somebody or other would be sure to stand him a drink, had no
difficulty whatever in coming to a decision, but drew rein at the inn,
an example that was followed by both the other carriages as they drove
up.

It was a very brief halt, not more than half the men getting down at
all, and those who remained in the brakes grumbled so much at the delay
that the others drank their beer as quickly as possible and the journey
was resumed once more, almost in silence. No attempts at singing, no
noisy laughter; they scarcely spoke to each other, but sat gloomily