trance of the open space, with my eyes fixed on the path down which my
unexpected and I may say unwelcome visitors were coming. Presently I
heard a stamping or sliding, as if of a horse in some difficulty; and
then a loud curse, and the next moment appeared a man and a horse and
cart; the former holding the head of the horse up to prevent him from
falling, of which he was in danger, owing to the precipitous nature of
the path. Whilst thus occupied, the head of the man was averted from me.
When, however, he had reached the bottom of the descent, he turned his
head, and perceiving me, as I stood bareheaded, without either coat or
waistcoat, about two yards from him, he gave a sudden start, so violent
that the backward motion of his hand had nearly flung the horse upon his
haunches.

"Why don't you move forward?" said a voice from behind, apparently that
of a female; "you are stopping up the way, and we shall be all down upon
one another;" and I saw the head of another horse overtopping the back of
the cart.

"Why don't you move forward, Jack?" said another voice, also of a female,
yet higher up the path.

The man stirred not, but remained staring at me in the posture which he
had assumed on first perceiving me, his body very much drawn back, his
left foot far in advance of his right, and with his right hand still
grasping the halter of the horse, which gave way more and more, till it
was clean down on its haunches.

"What's the matter?" said the voice which I had last heard.

"Get back with you, Belle, Moll," said the man, still staring at me:
"here's something not over-canny or comfortable here."

"What is it?" said the same voice; "let me pass, Moll, and I'll soon
clear the way," and I heard a kind of rushing down the path.

"You need not be afraid," said I, addressing myself to the man,--"I mean
you no harm; I am a wanderer like yourself---come here to seek for
shelter--you need not be afraid; I am a Rome chabo {82} by
matriculation--one of the right sort, and no mistake. Good day to ye,
brother; I bids ye welcome."

The man eyed me suspiciously for a moment--then, turning to his horse
with a loud curse, he pulled him up from his haunches, and led him and
the cart farther down to one side of the dingle, muttering as he passed
me, "Afraid? Hm!"

I do not remember ever to have seen a more ruffianly-looking fellow: he
was about six feet high, with an immensely athletic frame; his face was
black and bluff, a