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come out altogether so plain as to please me, but it’s on the cards. Now I don’t take kindly to laying out the money of Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, on these Roughs, and I don’t see my way to the usefulness of it at present. No! So far, our road, Miss Summerson, is for’ard—straight ahead—and keeping everything quiet!”
We called at home once more, that I might send a hasty note to my guardian, and then we hurried back to where we had left the carriage. The horses were brought out as soon as we were seen coming, and we were on the road again in a few minutes.
It had set in snowing at daybreak, and it now snowed hard. The air was so thick with the darkness of the day and the density of the fall, that we could see but a very little way in any direction. Although it was extremely cold, the snow was but partially frozen, and it churned—with a sound as if it were a beach of small shells—under the hoofs of the horses, into mire and water. They sometimes slipped and floundered for a mile together, and we were obliged to come to a stand-still to rest them. One horse fell three times in this first stage, and trembled so, and was so shaken, that the driver had to dismount from his saddle and lead him at last.
I could eat nothing, and could not sleep; and I grew so nervous under these delays, and the slow pace at which we travelled, that I had an unreasonable desire upon me to get out and walk. Yielding to my companion’s better sense, however, I remained where I was. All this time, kept fresh by a certain enjoyment of the work in which he was engaged, he was up and down at every house we came to; addressing people whom he had never beheld before, as old acquaintances; running in to warm himself at every fire he saw; talking and drinking and shaking hands, at every bar and tap; friendly with every waggoner, wheelwright, blacksmith, and toll-taker; yet never seeming to lose time, and always mounting to the box again with his watchful, steady face, and his business-like “Get on, my lad!”
When we were changing horses the next time, he came from the stable yard, with the wet snow encrusted upon him, and dropping off him—plashing and crashing through it to his wet knees, as he had been doing frequently since we left Saint Albans—and spoke to me at the carriage side.
“Keep up your spirits. It’s certainly true that she came on here, Miss Summerson. There’s not a doubt of the dress by this time, and the dress has been seen here.”
“Still on foot?” said I.
“Still on foot. I think the gentleman you mentioned must be the point she’s aiming at; and yet I don’t like his living down in her own part of the country, neither.”
“I know so little,” said I. “There may be some one else nearer here, of whom I never heard.”
“That’s true. But whatever you do, don’t you fall a crying, my dear; and don’t you worry yourself no more than you can help. Get on my lad!”
The sleet fell all that day unceasingly, a thick mist came on early, and it never rose or lightened for a moment. Such roads I had never seen. I sometimes feared we had missed the way, and got into the