and soon found a low hedge which without hesitation he climbed; he felt
the outer wall of a house, but could not find the door. Close to the
house however was a wooden barn, from which issued the bleating which
had so much gladdened the poor wanderer; and to this he directed his
steps.

Many a reader, when he runs over this chapter by his warm fire-side, or
possibly in summer, will not forbear laughing. But whosoever, led by
pleasure or necessity, has in winter roamed over a heath in the Scotch
Highlands, and has been fairly mist-foundered,--knows what a blessed
haven for the weary and frozen way-farer is a reeking sheep-cote. The
author of this novel speaks here feelingly and from a memorable
personal experience: upon a romantic pedestrian excursion from
Edinburgh to the western parts of Strathnavern he once lost his way in
company with his friend, Thomas Vanley, Esq. who departed this life
about ten years ago, but will live for ever in his tender recollection.
After wandering for several hours in the thickest mist upon this
_Novembry_ heath, and what by moorish ground--what by the dripping
atmosphere being thoroughly soaked, and stiffening with cold, the
author and Mr. Vanley discovered on a declivity of the bleak Mount
Patrick a solitary hovel. It stood apart from all houses or dwellings;
and even the shepherd on this particular night had stolen away
(probably on a love-tryst): however, if the shepherd was gone, his
sheep were not: and we found about fifty of them in the stall, which
had recently been littered with fine clean straw. We clambered over the
hurdle at the door; and made ourselves a warm cozy lair amongst the
peaceful animals. Many times after in succeeding years Mr. Vanley
assured me--that, although he had in India (as is well known to the
public) enjoyed all the luxuries of a Nabob whilst he served in those
regions under Sir Arthur Wellesley, yet never had any Indian bed been
so voluptuous to him as that straw-bed amongst the sheep upon the
desolate wilds of Mount Patrick.

To his great delight Bertram found the door of the barn only latched:
without noise he opened it just wide enough to admit his person;
and then, closing it again cautiously, climbed over the great hurdle
which barricadoed the entrance. Then he groped along in a stooping
posture--feeling his way on the ground, as he advanced, with his hands;
but, spite of all his precaution, the sheep were disturbed; they fled
from him bleating tu