r, I told the company that such a meal had been called "to box Harry"
by the master, who had observed it to be in great favour with commercial
gentlemen out of Liverpool. With this information and a stanza or two
from Lopez de Vega I left the Inn of the Rose and Crown behind me, having
first paid my reckoning. At the door the landlord asked me for my name
and address.

"And why?" I asked.

"Lest there should be inquiry for you," said the landlord.

"But why should they inquire for me?"

"Ah, who knows?" said the landlord, musing. And so I left him at the
door of the Inn of the Rose and Crown, whence came, I observed, a great
tumult of laughter. "Assuredly," thought I, "Rome was not built in a
day."

Having walked down the main street of Swinehurst, which, as I have
observed, consists of half-timbered buildings in the ancient style, I
came out upon the country road, and proceeded to look for those wayside
adventures, which are, according to the master, as thick as blackberries
for those who seek them upon an English highway. I had already received
some boxing lessons before leaving London, so it seemed to me that if I
should chance to meet some traveller whose size and age seemed such as to
encourage the venture I would ask him to strip off his coat and settle
any differences which we could find in the old English fashion. I
waited, therefore, by a stile for any one who should chance to pass, and
it was while I stood there that the screaming horror came upon me, even
as it came upon the master in the dingle. I gripped the bar of the
stile, which was of good British oak. Oh, who can tell the terrors of
the screaming horror! That was what I thought as I grasped the oaken bar
of the stile. Was it the beer--or was it the tea? Or was it that the
landlord was right and that other, the man with the black, shiny coat, he
who had answered the sign of the strange man in the corner? But the
master drank tea with beer. Yes, but the master also had the screaming
horror. All this I thought as I grasped the bar of British oak, which
was the top of the stile. For half an hour the horror was upon me. Then
it passed, and I was left feeling very weak and still grasping the oaken
bar.

I had not moved from the stile, where I had been seized by the screaming
horror, when I heard the sound of steps behind me, and turning round I
perceived that a pathway led across the field upon the farther side of
the stile. A woman w