hours' sleep had refreshed her, and she felt strong to perform
her mission.

"Only not to be too late," she said; "not too late!"

The courage of many a woman would have failed in prospect of a walk in
the dark through the suburbs of Bath.

There were watchmen here and there, and she might ask the way of one,
perhaps; but no one must know her errand, or she might be stopped from
performing it.

The clock struck five, in deep sonorous tones just as Griselda crept
noiselessly downstairs, and with trembling hands drew back the bolts of
the door, turned the key in the lock, and, closing it behind her, went
out into the winter's morning.

The sky had cleared, and the rain of the past two days had ceased. There
were breaks in the clouds, and in a rift Venus, in full beauty, seemed
to smile on Griselda with the smile of a friend.

Widcombe Hill had to be climbed, and then beyond, at some distance,
Claverton Down stretched away in gentle undulations. In 1790, it was a
desolate and unfrequented tract of moorland, with here and there a few
trees, but no sign of habitation except a lonely cottage or hut, at long
distances apart.

Griselda's figure, in its black garments, did not attract attention from
a boisterous party who had just turned out from a night's revel. Their
coarse songs and laughter jarred on her ear, and she shrank under the
shadow of a church portico till they had passed.

Presently the watchman's voice broke the stillness as he ascended
Widcombe Hill.

"It's just six o'clock, and a fine star-lit morning."

* * * * *

Yes, it was a fine morning. The rift in the clouds had widened, and
above, the sky was clear, and the host of heaven was shining in full
glory.

After two or three nights, when dull lowering skies had made
astronomical observations impossible, the change in the weather was
welcome to those who "swept the heavens," and found in them the grand
interest and beauty of their lives.

The Herschels had returned to their new home, after a long and fatiguing
day in Bristol. There had been not a little worry connected with the
arrangements for the oratorio, the proper distribution of the parts,
jealousies amongst the performers, and missing sheets of score. But
Caroline Herschel immediately recommenced the arrangement of the new
house, which a day's absence in Bristol had interrupted. The sorting of
books and music, the instruction of Betty in her duties, with not