change of horses. The house stood black and sombre as a tomb in the dim
moonlight. The family had evidently retired to rest. At length we were
admitted into a dimly lighted room, where a table was spread with
substantial food. The old gentleman, whose slumbers we had so ruthlessly
disturbed, fumbled among a pile of letters and papers, which he
distributed in three monstrous mailbags, that flapped about on the floor
like so many whales out of water. His toilet had evidently been hastily
made, and he shuffled the letters and papers about with the manner of a
person half asleep. His hair, which was white and very abundant, stood
erect all over his head, and contrasted queerly with his nut-brown face,
which was strongly marked and deeply wrinkled.

We were all sleepy and stupid enough by this time, and, had the
Scotchman been a less chivalrous knight than he had proved himself, I
doubt not he would have experienced some satisfaction in placing my
plank and brick before the fire to heat for the last time.

We were none of us hungry but the sharp-visaged driver, who devoured his
supper, or breakfast, whichever it might be called, with the air of a
man who was determined to get through to Bangor before morning.

The Frenchman, who had been completely cowed down by the old gentleman's
indignant 'No, _sir!_ we don't keep no sich stuff abaout these
premises!' in reply to his demand for 'rum,' meekly took refuge in a cup
of coffee.

In the mean time a baby in the adjoining room, awakened by our
movements, began to cry. It was quite a young cry. It could not be more
than three or four months old, I thought, as I compared it mentally with
the efforts of my own youngest in that direction. But the baby shoe
which hung by the fireplace betokened an older child. It must have been
the old gentleman's grandchild. I pitied its mother, for it might lie
awake until morning.

Once more our resolute driver, with an authoritative 'All ready!'
summoned us to depart.

'Amaziah, bring the light around here!' cried the Englishman, who seemed
to know the names of every one at these stopping places by a sort of
intuition.

'Amaziah' promptly obeyed, and by the aid of his lantern I settled
myself for the last stage of my journey. To the Scotchman's comfort, the
missing buffalo was produced here, according to the driver's promise.

The Frenchman, who had been over the 'line' before, had hinted that four
gray horses were to take us into Bangor;