will enable other folks to take note of us, and that may prove an ill beginning of our journey. I had not cared a spark from anvil about the matter, had we been farther advanced on our way. But this Berkshire has been notoriously haunted e'er since I knew the country, with that sort of malicious elves, who sit up late and rise early, for no other purpose than to pry into other folks affairs. I have been endangered by them ere now. But do not fear,» he added, « good madam; for wit, meeting with opportunity, will not miss to find a salve for every sore. >> The alarms of her guide made more impression on the Countess's mind than the comfort which he judged fit to administer along with it. She looked anxiously around her, and as the shadows withdrew from the landscape, and the heightening glow of the eastern sky promised the speedy rise of the sun, expected at every turn that the increasing light would expose them to the view of the vengeful pursuers, or present some dangerous and insurmontable obstacle to the prosecution of their journey. Wayland Smith perceived her uneasiness, and, displeased with himself for having given her cause of alarm, strode on with affected alacrity, now talking to the horse as one expert in the language of the stable, now whistling to himself low and interrupted snatches of tunes, and now assuring the lady there was no danger, while at the same time he looked sharply around to see that there was nothing in sight, which might give the lie to his words while they were issuing from his mouth. Thus did they journey on, until an unexpected incident gave them the means of continuing their pilgrimage with more speed and convenience. CHAPTER XXIV. Richard. A horse! -a horse! - my kingdom for a horse! OUR travellers were in the act of passing a small thicket of trees close by the road-side, when the first living being presented himself whom they had seen since their departure from CumnorPlace. This was a stupid lout, seemingly a farmer's boy, in a grey jerkin, with his head bare, his hose about his heels, and huge startups upon his feet. He held by the bridle what of all things they most wanted, a palfrey, namely, with a side-saddle, and all other garniture for a woman's mounting; and he hailed Wayland Smith with, «Zur, be ye zure the party?»> « Ay, that I be, my lad, » answered Wayland, without an instant's hesitation; and it must be owned that consciences, trained in a stricter school of morality, might have given way to an occasion so tempting. While he spoke he caught the rein out of the boy's hand, and almost at the same time helped down the Countess from his own horse, and aided her to mount on that which chance had thus presented for her acceptance. Indeed, so naturally did the whole take place, that the Countess, as it afterwards appeared, never suspected but what the horse had been placed there to meet them by the precaution of the guide or some of his friends. The lad, however, who was thus hastily dispossessed of his charge, began to stare hard, and scratch his head, as if seized with some qualms of conscience for delivering up the animal on such brief explanation. « I be right zure thou be'st the party,» said he, muttering to himself, but thou shouldst ha zaid Beans, thou knaw'st. >> Ay, ay," said Wayland, speaking at a venture; «< and thou Bacon, thou know'st. » Noa, noa, » said the lad; « bide it was Pease should ha said. » ye ye ye bide « Well, well, » answered Wayland, pease be it, a' God's name, though bacon were the better password. >> And, being by this time mounted on his own horse, he caught the rein of the palfrey from the uncertain hold of the hesitating young boor, flung him a small piece of money, and made amends for lost time by riding briskly off without farther parley. The lad was still visible from the hill up which they were riding, and Wayland, as he looked back, beheld him standing with his fingers in his hair as immoveable as a guide-post, and his head turned in the direction in which they were escaping from him. At length, just as they topped the hill, he saw the clown stoop to lift up the silver groat which his benevolence had imparted.—« Now this is what I call a Godsend,» said Wayland; « this is a bonny well-ridden bit of a going thing, and it will carry us so far till we get you as well mounted, and then we will send it back to satisfy the Hue and Cry. » But he was deceived in his expectations; and fate, which seemed at first to promise so fairly, soon threatened to turn the incident, which he thus gloried in, into the cause of their utter ruin. place They had not ridden a short mile from the where they left the lad, before they heard a man's voice shouting on the wind behind them, « Robbery! robbery! Stop thief! » and similar exclamations, which Wayland's conscience readily assured him must arise out of the transaction to which he had been just accessary. I had better have gone barefoot all my life, he said; «< it is the Hue and Cry, and I am a lost man. Ah! Wayland, Wayland, many a time thy father said horse-flesh would be the death of thee. Were I once safe among the horse-coursers in Smithfield, or Turnball Street, they should have leave to hang me as high as St Paul's, if I e'er meduled more with nobles, knights, or gentlewomen. >> Amidst these dismal reflections, he turned his head repeatedly to see by whom he was chased, and was much comforted when he could |
