way up to the place, it was far-away on the
road, indeed, he saw the lamps flash as it went up Wearyfoot Hill, but
all the inn was silent again by that time even at the stables, and the
hotel was a dark mass against the sky--the only light in it the moon
reflected from the windows. A dog barked as he went past, but he kept
far upon the other side of the road and was reassured by hearing the
rattling of a chain.

Wearyfoot Hill! Yes, it was Wearyfoot to him, as he dragged up it. He
could not remember whether it was four or five miles from Minsterham.
There was a milestone standing on the bank, and he tried to read it, but
the moon would not reveal more than the large initial letters of L for
London and M for Minsterham, and he sat down at last and leaned against
the stone, trying to trace out the figure above Minsterham with his
fingers.

Behold, though four and five were both ringing in his head, he must have
fallen asleep, for he felt quite cold and stiff, the moon was much
higher in the sky, the stars were paler, and there was a mist all round.
He rose up, ashamed, and shook himself, colder and more uncomfortable
than before, but feeling it was a new day, and that, were it four miles
or five, he was now near Minsterham. He said his morning prayers as he
tramped along, stamping to warm his feet, and recollected that Aunt
Judith would be lying awake praying for him. He found that when the
first discomfort of awakening had passed off, he really was the better
for his short sleep, and marched on more vigorously, presently hearing a
cock begin to crow, and birds to twitter. Dawn was beginning, presently
a lark sprang up and began to send down a wonderful cheerful song, that
quite raised Johnnie's spirits; then over the quiet misty fields came
the deep note of the great Minsterham clock pealing out, what was only a
half hour, but John knew that it would be much louder in his ears next
time it spoke.

A waggon lumbered by, and then a labourer or two going to their work,
but John kept out of their way, not wanting to be asked questions; there
began to be red in the eastern mist, the clock sounded again, and from
the slope of the hill, the spires of the churches in the town seemed to
be rising out of a great lake of woolly mist. The clock went through
all the four quarters, then solemnly told out five strokes--Johnnie's
weary night journey was over.

CHAPTER TWENTY.

THE ROYAL HOTEL.

"O haste to aid, ere