mean?"

"I mean," said he, "that these are the people that we met near
Montpelier, who come from the Landes, walking about on their stilts for
the amusement of others, to obtain money. In their own country they are
obliged to walk so. Now, Peter, it appears to me that the man's clothes
will fit me, and the girl's (poor creature, how pretty she looks, cold
in death!) will fit you. All we have to do is to practise a little, and
then away we start."

O'Brien then, with some difficulty, pulled off the man's jacket and
trowsers, and having so done, buried him in the snow. The poor girl was
despoiled of her gown and upper petticoat, with every decency, and also
buried. We collected the clothes and stilts, and removed to another
quarter of the wood, where we found a well-sheltered spot, and took our
meal. As we did not travel that night as usual, we had to prepare our
own bed. We scraped away the snow, and made ourselves as comfortable as
we could without a fire, but the weather was dreadful.

"Peter," said O'Brien, "I'm melancholy. Here, drink plenty;" and he
handed me the flask of spirits, which had never been empty.

"Drink more, Peter."

"I cannot, O'Brien, without being tipsy."

"Never mind that, drink more; see how these two poor devils lost their
lives by falling asleep in the snow. Peter," said O'Brien, starting up,
"you sha'n't sleep here--follow me."

I expostulated in vain. It was almost dark, and he led me to the
village, near which he pitched upon a hovel (a sort of out-house).
"Peter, here is shelter; lie down and sleep, and I'll keep the watch.
Not a word, I will have it--down at once."

I did so, and in a very few minutes was fast asleep, for I was worn out
with cold and fatigue. For several days we had walked all night, and the
rest we gained by day was trifling. Oh how I longed for a warm bed with
four or five blankets! Just as the day broke, O'Brien roused me; he had
stood sentry all night, and looked very haggard.

"O'Brien, you are ill," said I.

"Not a bit; but I've emptied the brandy-flask; and that's a bad job.
However, it is to be remedied."

We then returned to the wood in a mizzling rain and fog, for the weather
had changed, and the frost had broken up. The thaw was even worse than
the frost, and we felt the cold more. O'Brien again insisted upon my
sleeping in the out-house, but this time I positively refused without he
would also sleep there, pointing out to him, that we ran no more r