wling something
from the back. By the utter morosity of Algy's face--faintly seen in the
distance--I conjecture that it is a joke; and, by the chuckling agony of
zest with which the old man is delivered of it, I further conclude that
it is something slightly unclean, but, thanks to the wind, none of us
overtake a word of it. The wind's spirits are rising. Its play is
becoming ever more and more boisterous. It would be difficult to imagine
any thing disagreeabler than it is making itself; but perhaps it _will_
keep off the rain. Thinking this, I try to bear its blows and
buffets--its slaps on the face--its boxes on the ear--with greater
patience. We have left the broad and safe high-road; Mr. Parker having,
in an evil moment, bethought himself of a short-cut. We are, therefore,
entangled in a labyrinth of cross-roads--finger-postless, guideless,
solitary. _So_ solitary, indeed, that we meet only one vacant boy of
tender years, of whom, when we inquire the way, the wind absolutely
refuses to allow us to hear a word of the broad Doric of his answer. At
last--after many bold and stout declarations on the part of Mr. Parker,
that he _will not_ be beaten--that he knows the way as well as he does
his A B C--and that he will find it if he stays till midnight--he is
compelled, by the joint and miserable clamor of us all, to turn back--(a
frightful process, as the road is narrow, and the coach will not
lock)--to retrace our steps, and take up again the despised high-road,
where we had left it. These manoeuvres have naturally taken some time.
It is three o'clock in the afternoon before we at length reach the great
spread of desolate, broad, moorland, which is our destination. For more
than an hour, absolute silence has fallen upon us. Like poor Yorick, we
are "quite, quite chapfallen!" Even the gallant old gentleman could not
make a dirty jest if he were to be shot for it. Mr. Parker alone
maintains his exasperating good spirits. We find Roger and Mrs. Huntley
sitting on the heather waiting for us. There is a good deal of
relief--as it seems to me--in the former's eye, as he sees us appear on
the scene; and a good deal of another expression, as he watches the
masterly manner in which we pull up: all the four horses floundering
together on their haunches; the leaders, moreover, exhibiting a
mysterious desire to turn round and look in the wheelers' faces.

"Here we are!" cries Mr. Parker, joyously; "I have brought you along
capitall