ant in Italy, without coming to any
harm--come, let us move on, for 'tis a shame to keep you two in the
rain.'
So we descended the path which led into the depths of the dingle; at the
bottom I conducted the postilion to my tent, which, though the rain
dripped and trickled through it, afforded some shelter; there I bade him
sit down on the log of wood, whilst I placed myself as usual on my stone.
Belle in the meantime had repaired to her own place of abode. After a
little time, I produced a bottle of the cordial of which I have
previously had occasion to speak, and made my guest take a considerable
draught. I then offered him some, bread and cheese, which he accepted
with thanks. In about an hour the rain had much abated: 'What do you now
propose to do?' said I. 'I scarcely know,' said the man; 'I suppose I
must endeavour to put on the wheel with your help.' 'How far are you
from your home?' I demanded. 'Upwards of thirty miles,' said the man;
'my master keeps an inn on the great north road, and from thence I
started early this morning with a family, which I conveyed across the
country to a hall at some distance from here. On my return I was beset
by the thunderstorm, which frightened the horses, who dragged the chaise
off the road to the field above, and overset it as you saw. I had
proposed to pass the night at an inn about twelve miles from here on my
way back, though how I am to get there to-night I scarcely know, even if
we can put on the wheel, for, to tell you the truth, I am shaken by my
fall, and the smoulder and smoke of that fireball have rather bewildered
my head; I am, moreover, not much acquainted with the way.
'The best thing you can do,' said I, 'is to pass the night here; I will
presently light a fire, and endeavour to make you comfortable--in the
morning we will see to your wheel.' 'Well,' said the man, 'I shall be
glad to pass the night here, provided I do not intrude, but I must see to
the horses.' Thereupon I conducted the man to the place where the horses
were tied. 'The trees drip very much upon them,' said the man, 'and it
will not do for them to remain here all night; they will be better out on
the field picking the grass; but first of all they must have a good feed
of corn.' Thereupon he went to his chaise, from which he presently
brought two small bags, partly filled with corn--into them he inserted
the mouths of the horses, tying them over their heads. 'Here we will
leave them
|