itself in a poor, marshy orchard, and packed with hay; to make it more
attractive, we were told it had been the scene of an abominable murder,
and was now haunted. But the day was beginning to break, and our fatigue
was too extreme for visionary terrors. The second or third, we alighted
on a barren heath about midnight, built a fire to warm us under the
shelter of some thorns, supped like beggars on bread and a piece of cold
bacon, and slept like gipsies with our feet to the fire. In the
meanwhile, King was gone with the cart, I know not where, to get a
change of horses, and it was late in the dark morning when he returned
and we were able to resume our journey. In the middle of another night
we came to a stop by an ancient, whitewashed cottage of two stories; a
privet hedge surrounded it; the frosty moon shone blankly on the upper
windows; but through those of the kitchen the firelight was seen
glinting on the roof and reflected from the dishes on the wall. Here,
after much hammering on the door, King managed to arouse an old crone
from the chimney-corner chair, where she had been dozing in the watch;
and we were had in, and entertained with a dish of hot tea. This old
lady was an aunt of Burchell Fenn's--and an unwilling partner in his
dangerous trade. Though the house stood solitary, and the hour was an
unlikely one for any passenger upon the road, King and she conversed in
whispers only. There was something dismal, something of the sick-room,
in this perpetual, guarded sibilation. The apprehensions of our hostess
insensibly communicated themselves to every one present. We ate like
mice in a cat's ear; if one of us jingled a teaspoon, all would start;
and when the hour came to take the road again, we drew a long breath of
relief, and climbed to our places in the covered cart with a positive
sense of escape. The most of our meals, however, were taken boldly at
hedge-row alehouses, usually at untimely hours of the day, when the
clients were in the field or the farmyard at labour. I shall have to
tell presently of our last experience of the sort, and how unfortunately
it miscarried; but as that was the signal for my separation from my
fellow-travellers I must first finish with them.

I had never any occasion to waver in my first judgment of the Colonel.
The old gentleman seemed to me, and still seems in the retrospect, the
salt of the earth. I had occasion to see him in the extremes of
hardship, hunger, and cold; he was