hen made across the country at a run, and saved a mile or two before he
struck again into the road. At last, as his plan was, he came up with a
certain lumbering, slow, night-coach, which stopped wherever it could,
and was stopping then at a public-house, while the guard and coachman
ate and drank within.

He bargained for a seat outside this coach, and took it. And he quitted
it no more until it was within a few miles of its destination, but
occupied the same place all night.

All night! It is a common fancy that nature seems to sleep by night. It
is a false fancy, as who should know better than he?

The fishes slumbered in the cold, bright, glistening streams and rivers,
perhaps; and the birds roosted on the branches of the trees; and in
their stalls and pastures beasts were quiet; and human creatures slept.
But what of that, when the solemn night was watching, when it never
winked, when its darkness watched no less than its light! The stately
trees, the moon and shining stars, the softly stirring wind, the
over-shadowed lane, the broad, bright countryside, they all kept watch.
There was not a blade of growing grass or corn, but watched; and the
quieter it was, the more intent and fixed its watch upon him seemed to
be.

And yet he slept. Riding on among those sentinels of God, he slept,
and did not change the purpose of his journey. If he forgot it in his
troubled dreams, it came up steadily, and woke him. But it never woke
him to remorse, or to abandonment of his design.

He dreamed at one time that he was lying calmly in his bed, thinking of
a moonlight night and the noise of wheels, when the old clerk put
his head in at the door, and beckoned him. At this signal he arose
immediately--being already dressed in the clothes he actually wore at
that time--and accompanied him into a strange city, where the names of
the streets were written on the walls in characters quite new to him;
which gave him no surprise or uneasiness, for he remembered in his dream
to have been there before. Although these streets were very precipitous,
insomuch that to get from one to another it was necessary to descend
great heights by ladders that were too short, and ropes that moved deep
bells, and swung and swayed as they were clung to, the danger gave him
little emotion beyond the first thrill of terror; his anxieties being
concentrated on his dress which was quite unfitted for some festival
that was about to be holden there, and in whi