with which he expressed himself highly pleased. When I say _we_, I mean
the little milliner and myself, for I am ashamed to say that the widow
was all the while discontented and cross, maintaining a sullen silence,
excepting when she broke it to grumble over our misfortunes, and
appearing totally insensible to the generous kindness of our protectors,
who could so easily have taken care of themselves if we had not been in
their way.

By and by we heard footsteps and voices, and the two young men
reappeared with a farmer's boy leading a horse. But, oh, misery! the lad
had forgotten the rope which he was told to bring, and there was no
other way but for him to go back to the farm for it. Reproaches were
useless, and so the lad was despatched for the missing rope, with a
warning that he was to come back "in less than no time;" and the young
men joined us in the car, glad to find shelter from the snow, although
there was scarcely any room for them to stand, and none at all for them
to sit down. The horse, too, seemed inclined to join our group, as one
of the young men held him by the bridle so that his head was inside the
door.

The director gave such brilliant accounts of the entertainment he had
enjoyed during the absence of his companions that they bewailed their
deprivation most bitterly, nor would they be comforted until the
milliner had repeated her story of "Mrs. Perkins's Tea-party" and I had
sung over again all my songs. As soon as the boy reported himself the
three gentlemen hurried out to superintend the hitching up. We could see
nothing of what was going on, excepting now and then a bright gleam cast
by the lantern across the snow opposite our open door, but we could hear
all that was said, and we soon learned that there was more trouble in
store for us. The horse would not go. It was not that the load was too
much for him, for when all was ready the three men came back to their
old place and started the car, with the intention of helping the horse
all the way. But it was of no use: he would not stir a step. Perhaps he
disliked the look of the wagon; more likely, he was afraid to walk upon
the timbers; at all events, he refused to budge an inch. The boy
chirruped and hallooed and swore; the men pushed the car until it came
up to the horse's heels; but he only kicked and baulked, and would not
draw. There was nothing to be done but to dismiss the beast and his
driver, and try again. So the three gallant knights w