gth George Woodley and
the smith put in their appearance; the injured horse was attended to,
and we were enabled to resume our journey. Bowling along mile after
mile in the darkness, it was difficult to judge how time was passing;
but Tom, glancing at his old, turnip-shaped watch as we left the
smithy, muttered,--

"Blessed if it ain't quarter-past eight, and we ain't got to Tod's
Corner."

The mention of the crossroads, where at the beginning of the summer
holidays we had been met by the gig from Coverthorne, caused my
thoughts to fly off to the old house and the fun I had had with Miles,
both at the commencement of the previous holidays and during that long
friendship which had been brought to such an untimely end. Musing over
the events of the holiday naturally led me back to a remembrance of the
man with whom I had just been speaking. There he sat, bound for the
opposite side of the globe; yet within half an hour we should pass
within three miles of Rockymouth, that native village which he might
never behold again. If it had been daylight, we should by this time
have caught a glimpse of the sea from the highway along which we were
travelling, and the night air seemed flavoured with the salt odour of
the ocean.

Though cold and weary, the convicts had once more commenced their song,
as though, being debarred the free use of their limbs, they were
determined to keep themselves warm with the exercise of their lungs. I
had grown by this time so much accustomed to their presence as to
hardly notice their shouting; tired out with the day's adventures, only
the fear of falling from my lofty perch prevented my dropping off to
sleep. Even the sharp tingling of my ears would not have kept me
awake. My chin kept falling with a jerk upon my breast, and the
clatter of hoofs and the song of the prisoners mingled strangely with
momentary fancies that I was back at school, or was talking with the
loved ones at home.

At length I was roused up broad awake by the coach stopping. The road
was very dark, owing to its being overshadowed by a number of tall
trees. I peered about me, and catching sight of a ruined cottage with
half of its thatched roof fallen in, I recognized the spot at once, and
knew that we were come to within about a mile of Tod's Corner. Just
beyond the glare of our lamps was the brow of a steep and dangerous
hill, and we had pulled up while George jumped down and put on the drag.

In fancy I can see