Beatten the schoolmeasther! 'Cod it's the best
thing a've heerd this twonty year!'

So saying, and indulging, with more delicacy than might have been
expected from him, in another series of loud laughs, for the purpose of
avoiding the thanks which Nicholas poured forth, John Browdie set spurs
to his horse, and went off at a smart canter: looking back, from time to
time, as Nicholas stood gazing after him, and waving his hand cheerily,
as if to encourage him on his way. Nicholas watched the horse and rider
until they disappeared over the brow of a distant hill, and then set
forward on his journey.

He did not travel far that afternoon, for by this time it was nearly
dark, and there had been a heavy fall of snow, which not only rendered
the way toilsome, but the track uncertain and difficult to find, after
daylight, save by experienced wayfarers. He lay, that night, at a
cottage, where beds were let at a cheap rate to the more humble class of
travellers; and, rising betimes next morning, made his way before night
to Boroughbridge. Passing through that town in search of some cheap
resting-place, he stumbled upon an empty barn within a couple of hundred
yards of the roadside; in a warm corner of which, he stretched his weary
limbs, and soon fell asleep.

When he awoke next morning, and tried to recollect his dreams, which had
been all connected with his recent sojourn at Dotheboys Hall, he sat
up, rubbed his eyes and stared--not with the most composed countenance
possible--at some motionless object which seemed to be stationed within
a few yards in front of him.

'Strange!' cried Nicholas; 'can this be some lingering creation of the
visions that have scarcely left me! It cannot be real--and yet I--I am
awake! Smike!'

The form moved, rose, advanced, and dropped upon its knees at his feet.
It was Smike indeed.

'Why do you kneel to me?' said Nicholas, hastily raising him.

'To go with you--anywhere--everywhere--to the world's end--to the
churchyard grave,' replied Smike, clinging to his hand. 'Let me, oh do
let me. You are my home--my kind friend--take me with you, pray.'

'I am a friend who can do little for you,' said Nicholas, kindly. 'How
came you here?'

He had followed him, it seemed; had never lost sight of him all the way;
had watched while he slept, and when he halted for refreshment; and
had feared to appear before, lest he should be sent back. He had not
intended to appear now, but Nicholas had awakene