dy young fellow who did not object to mud was pushing his way
recklessly behind me. I was soon overtaken, we exchanged kind greetings,
and jogged on together, shoulder to shoulder. He had been upon his
travels; had been in Denmark for two years, and had left Copenhagen to
return to his native village, that lay then only eight or ten miles
before us. What was his reason for returning? He was required to
perform military service, and for the next two years at least--or for a
longer time, should war break out--was doomed to be a soldier. He did
not think the doom particularly hard, and we jogged on together in a
cheerful mood until his knowledge of the ground became distressingly
familiar, and he illustrated portions of the scenery with tales of
robbery and murder. The scenery of the road became at every turn more
picturesque. Instead of passing between swampy fields, it ran along a
hollow, and the ground was on each side broken into deep holes with
rugged edges; black leafless bushes stood out from the grey and yellow
sand, while farther away in the background, against the leaden sky, there
was a sombre fringe of thickly planted fir-trees. The daylight, dim at
noon, had become dimmer as evening drew near; the grey sky darkened, and
the tales of robbery and murder made my thoughts anything but cheerful.
As the hills grew higher on each side of us, it occurred to us both that
here was a fine place for a murder, and I let my companion go before,
handling my stick at the same time as one ready to strike instantly if
any injury were offered. I was just demonstrative enough to frighten my
companion. We were a mere couple of rabbits. Each of us in his
innocence feared that the other might be a guilty monster, and so we were
both glad enough to get out of the narrow pass. On the other side of the
glen the road widened, and my companion paused at the head of a little
path that led down to a deeper corner of the hollow, and across the
fields. That was his way home. He had but a mile to go, and was already
anticipating all the kisses of his household. He wished me a prosperous
journey; I wished him a happy welcome in his village; and we shook hands
like two young men who owed amends to one another.

He had told me before we parted that there were two houses of
entertainment not far in advance. Already I saw the red-tiled roof of
one, that looked like a respectable farm-house. From the door of that
house, however, I w