evil spirit not knowing what to do with it. For
the moment I stood like a root, without either hand or foot to help me,
and the hair of my head began to crawl, lifting my hat, as a snail lifts
his house; and my heart like a shuttle went to and fro. But finding
no harm to come of it, neither visible form approaching, I wiped my
forehead, and hoped for the best, and resolved to run every step of the
way, till I drew our own latch behind me.

Yet here again I was disappointed, for no sooner was I come to the
cross-ways by the black pool in the hole, but I heard through the patter
of my own feet a rough low sound very close in the fog, as of a hobbled
sheep a-coughing. I listened, and feared, and yet listened again, though
I wanted not to hear it. For being in haste of the homeward road, and
all my heart having heels to it, loath I was to stop in the dusk for the
sake of an aged wether. Yet partly my love of all animals, and partly
my fear of the farmer's disgrace, compelled me to go to the succour, and
the noise was coming nearer. A dry short wheezing sound it was, barred
with coughs and want of breath; but thus I made the meaning of it.

'Lord have mercy upon me! O Lord, upon my soul have mercy! An if I
cheated Sam Hicks last week, Lord knowest how well he deserved it, and
lied in every stocking's mouth--oh Lord, where be I a-going?'

These words, with many jogs between them, came to me through the
darkness, and then a long groan and a choking. I made towards the sound,
as nigh as ever I could guess, and presently was met, point-blank, by
the head of a mountain-pony. Upon its back lay a man bound down, with
his feet on the neck and his head to the tail, and his arms falling
down like stirrups. The wild little nag was scared of its life by the
unaccustomed burden, and had been tossing and rolling hard, in desire to
get ease of it.

Before the little horse could turn, I caught him, jaded as he was, by
his wet and grizzled forelock, and he saw that it was vain to struggle,
but strove to bite me none the less, until I smote him upon the nose.

'Good and worthy sir,' I said to the man who was riding so roughly;
'fear nothing; no harm shall come to thee.'

'Help, good friend, whoever thou art,' he gasped, but could not look at
me, because his neck was jerked so; 'God hath sent thee, and not to rob
me, because it is done already.'

'What, Uncle Ben!' I cried, letting go the horse in amazement, that
the richest man in Dulv