, on which the building was situated. In
order, however, to reach the house, it was necessary to leave the main
road and pass down a lane of some twenty rods in length.

Together the pair proceeded through the driving snow, Basset keeping
hold of Holden, who walked meekly by his side. The fatalism of the
latter seemed to have taken entire possession of his mind, and he
probably regarded his sufferings as a necessary part of the designs
of Providence, which it would be as wicked as vain to resist. The
constable had repeatedly endeavored to engage his companion in
conversation, striving to comfort him with the opinion, that the
keeper of the quasi jail was a "clever man," and that people did not
find it as bad as they expected, and a week would quickly pass away.
"In winter," said Basset, "when it's hard to get work, I've known
many a likely young fellow do some trick on purpose to be put into the
workhouse till spring; so it can't be the worst place in the world."
Basset stretched the truth a little. He might have known or heard of
persons, who, in order to obtain warmth, and food, and shelter during
that inclement season, had committed petty crimes, but such instances
were exceedingly rare, and the offenders were anything but "likely
fellows." But Basset must be excused his leasing, for he felt lonely,
and longed to hear the sound of a human voice, and failing that of
another, was fain to put up with his own as better than none. But
Holden steadily resisted all the advances of the constable, refusing
to reply to any question, or to take notice of anything he might
say, until the latter, either wearied out by the pertinacity of his
captive, or vexed by what he considered sullenness or arrogance,
himself relapsed into silence.

They had crossed the bridge, passed up the hill, and traversed the
road along the margin of the Yaupaae, and were now just entering the
lane that runs down to the house. The storm was raging with unabated
fury, and the constable, with clenched teeth, and bent head, and
half-shut eyes, was breasting the driving flakes, and congratulating
himself with the idea that his exposure would soon be over, and he
by the side of a warm stove in one of the stores, the hero of the
evening, recounting the adventures of the day and comfortably taking
his cheerful glass, when suddenly, without having seen a person, his
cap was violently pulled over his eyes, a thick coffee-bag slipped
over his head, and a hand ap