cially in this neighbourhood, destroyed their pleasant places, and
left not, to use their own words, one stone upon another.'

'Yes, they did,' said the shepherd, looking aloft at the transverse
stone.

'And it is well for them they did; whenever that stone, which English
hands never raised, is by English hands thrown down, woe, woe, woe to the
English race; spare it, English! Hengist spared it!--Here is sixpence.'

'I won't have it,' said the man.

'Why not?'

'You talk so prettily about these stones; you seem to know all about
them.'

'I never receive presents; with respect to the stones, I say with
yourself, How did they ever come here?'

'How did they ever come here?' said the shepherd.

CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

THE BANKS OF A RIVER--THE ARID DOWNS--A PROSPECT

Leaving the shepherd, I bent my way in the direction pointed out by him
as that in which the most remarkable of the strange remains of which he
had spoken lay. I proceeded rapidly, making my way over the downs
covered with coarse grass and fern; with respect to the river of which he
had spoken, I reflected that, either by wading or swimming, I could
easily transfer myself and what I bore to the opposite side. On arriving
at its banks, I found it a beautiful stream, but shallow, with here and
there a deep place where the water ran dark and still.

Always fond of the pure lymph, I undressed, and plunged into one of these
gulfs, from which I emerged, my whole frame in a glow, and tingling with
delicious sensations. After conveying my clothes and scanty baggage to
the farther side, I dressed, and then with hurried steps bent my course
in the direction of some lofty ground; I at length found myself on a
high-road, leading over wide and arid downs; following the road for some
miles without seeing anything remarkable, I supposed at length that I had
taken the wrong path, and wended on slowly and disconsolately for some
time, till, having nearly surmounted a steep hill, I knew at once, from
certain appearances, that I was near the object of my search. Turning to
the right near the brow of the hill, I proceeded along a path which
brought me to a causeway leading over a deep ravine, and connecting the
hill with another which had once formed part of it, for the ravine was
evidently the work of art. I passed over the causeway, and found myself
in a kind of gateway which admitted me into a square space of many acres,
surrounded on all sides by mounds