at Chiddingly in 1813.

Mr. Egerton in his _Sussex Folk and Sussex Ways_ tells a story of a
couple down Chiddingly way who agreed upon a very satisfactory system of
danger signals when things were not quite well with either of them.
Whenever the husband came home a little "contrary" he wore his hat on
the back of his head, and then she never said a word; and if she came in
a little cross and crooked she threw her shawl over her left shoulder,
and then he never said a word.

[Sidenote: CZAR AND QUAKER]

A little to the east of Hellingly is Amberstone, the scene, in 1814, of
a pretty occurrence. Alexander, the Czar of all the Russias, travelling
from Brighton to Dover with his sister, the Duchess of Oldenburgh, saw
Nathaniel and Mary Rickman of Amberstone standing by their gate. From
their dress he knew them to be Quakers, a sect in which he was much
interested. The carriage was therefore stopped, and the Czar and his
sister entered the house; they were taken all over it, praised its
neatness, ate some lunch, and parted with the kindest expressions of
goodwill, the Czar shaking hands with the Quaker and the Duchess kissing
the Quakeress.

A few minutes on the rail bring us to Hailsham, an old market town,
whose church, standing on the ridge which borders Pevensey Level on the
west, is capped with pinnacles like that of East Grinstead. Walking a
few yards beyond the church one comes to the edge of the high ground,
with nothing before one but miles and miles of the meadow-land of this
Dutch region, green and moist and dotted with cattle.

Hailsham's principal value to the traveller is that it is the station
for Hurstmonceux; whither, however, we are to journey by another route.
Otherwise the town exists principally in order that bullocks and sheep
may change hands once a week. Hailsham's cattle market covers three
acres, and on market days the wayfarers in the streets need the agility
of a picador.

We ought, however, to see Michelham Priory while we are here. It lies
two miles to the west of Hailsham, in the Cuckmere valley--now a
beautifully-placed farmhouse, but once a house of Augustinian Canons
founded in the reign of Henry III. Here one may see the old monkish fish
stews, so useful on Fridays, in perfection. The moat, where fish were
probably also caught, is still as it was, and the fine old
three-storied gateway and the mill belonging to the monks stand to this
day. The priory, although much in ruins, is very