r was thrown clean off on the ground,
and fell stunned.

She picked herself up after a few minutes, to find no bones broken, the
miserable hut close by, and two children and an old crone looking at
her. The pony had concluded it a dangerous neighbourhood and departed,
shewing a clean pair of heels. Eleanor gathered her dress in her hand
and looked at the people who were staring at her. Such faces!

"What place is this?" she asked, forcing herself to be bold. The answer
was utterly unintelligible. All Eleanor could make out was the hoarsely
or thickly put question, "Be you hurted?"

"No, thank you--not at all, I believe," she said breathlessly, for she
had not got over the shock of her fall. "How far am I from the village
of Wiglands?"

Again the words that were spoken in reply gave no meaning to her ear.

"Boys, will one of you shew me the nearest way there? I will give you
something as soon as I get home."

The children stared, at her and at each other; but Eleanor was more
comprehensible to them than they to her. The old woman said some hoarse
words to the children; and then one of them stepped forth and said
strangely, "I 'ze go wiz ye."

"I'll reward him for it," said Eleanor, nodding to the old grandmother;
and set off, very glad to be walking away. She did not breathe freely
till a good many yards of distance were between her and the hut, where
the crone and the other child still remained watching her. There might
be others of the family coming home; and Eleanor walked at a brave pace
until she had well left the little hut behind, out of all fear of
pursuit. Then she began to feel that she was somewhat shattered by her
fall, and getting tired, and she went more gently. But it was a long,
long way; the reach of moor seemed endless; for it was a very different
thing to go over it on Black Maggie's feet from going over it on her
own. Eleanor was exceedingly weary, and still the brown common
stretched away on all sides of her; and the distant tuft of vegetation
which announced the village of Wiglands, stood afar off, and seemed to
be scarcely nearer after miles of walking. Before they reached it
Eleanor's feet were dragging after one another in weariest style. She
could not possibly go on to the Lodge without stopping to rest. How
should she reward and send back her guide? As she was thinking of this,
Eleanor saw the smoke curling up from a stray cottage hid among the
trees; it was Mrs. Williams's cottage. Her