bundle and stick and descended, whilst two people
mounted. 'All right, John,' said the guard to the coachman, springing up
behind; whereupon off whisked the coach, one or two individuals who were
standing by disappeared, and I was left alone.

CHAPTER LX

The still hour--A thrill--The wondrous circle--The shepherd--Heaps and
barrows--What do you mean?--Milk of the plains--Hengist spared it--No
presents.

After standing still a minute or two, considering what I should do, I
moved down what appeared to be the street of a small straggling town;
presently I passed by a church, which rose indistinctly on my right hand;
anon there was the rustling of foliage and the rushing of waters. I
reached a bridge, beneath which a small stream was running in the
direction of the south. I stopped and leaned over the parapet, for I
have always loved to look upon streams, especially at the still hours.
'What stream is this, I wonder?' said I, as I looked down from the
parapet into the water, which whirled and gurgled below.

Leaving the bridge, I ascended a gentle acclivity, and presently reached
what appeared to be a tract of moory undulating ground. It was now
tolerably light, but there was a mist or haze abroad which prevented my
seeing objects with much precision. I felt chill in the damp air of the
early morn, and walked rapidly forward. In about half an hour I arrived
where the road divided into two, at an angle or tongue of dark green
sward. 'To the right or the left?' said I, and forthwith took, without
knowing why, the left-hand road, along which I proceeded about a hundred
yards, when, in the midst of the tongue of sward formed by the two roads,
collaterally with myself, I perceived what I at first conceived to be a
small grove of blighted trunks of oaks, barked and gray. I stood still
for a moment, and then, turning off the road, advanced slowly towards it
over the sward; as I drew nearer, I perceived that the objects which had
attracted my curiosity, and which formed a kind of circle, were not
trees, but immense upright stones. A thrill pervaded my system; just
before me were two, the mightiest of the whole, tall as the stems of
proud oaks, supporting on their tops a huge transverse stone, and forming
a wonderful doorway. I knew now where I was, and, laying down my stick
and bundle, and taking off my hat, I advanced slowly, and cast myself--it
was folly, perhaps, but I could not help what I did--cast mysel