ree Cocks had taken up their abode. At last we
saw, a little way in front of us, at the side of the road--or rather
with one gable-end projecting into it, a large white house, with a mill
appearing to constitute one of its wings. "The man will surely stop here
to water the horses," was our observation; and so indeed he did--and as
he threw the rein loose over the off horse's neck--there! don't you see
the sign-board on the wall? Alas, alas, this is the Three Cocks! An
admirable fishing quarter it must be, for the river is very near, and
the country rich and beautiful, but not adapted to our particular case,
where mountain air and free exposure are indispensable. But if it had
been ten times less adapted to our purpose we had travelled too far to
give it up.

"Can you take us in for a few weeks?"

The landlord laughed at the idea. "I could not find room for a single
individual, if you gave me a thousand pounds. A party has been with me
for some time, and I can't even say how long they may stay."

And, corroborative of this, we saw at the window our fortunate
extruders, who no doubt congratulated themselves on so many points of
the law being in their favour. Here were we stuck on the Queen's high
road--tired horses, cooped-up children--and the Three Cocks as
unattainable as the Philosopher's stone. The sympathizing landlord
consoled us in our disappointment as well as he could. The postilion
jumped into his saddle again, and we pursued our way to the nearest
place where there was any likelihood of a reception--namely, the Hay, a
village of some size about five miles further on. "Come along, we shall
easily find a nice cottage to-morrow, or get into some farm-house, and
ruralize for a month or two delightfully." Our hopes rose as we looked
forward to a settled home, after our experience of the road for so many
days; and we soared to such a pitch of audacity at last, that we
congratulated ourselves that we had not got in at Glasbury, but were
forced to go forward. The world was all before us where to choose. The
country seemed to improve--that is, to get a little less Dutch in its
level, as we proceeded--and we finally reached the Hay, with the
determination of Barnaby's raven, to bear a good heart at all events,
and take for our motto, in all the ills of life, "Never say die!--never
say die!"

The hotel had been taken by assault, and was occupied in great force by
a troop of dragoons, on their march into Glo'stershire.