ed the light
of a window, sheltered by a red curtain, behind which the chiefs of the
village were enjoying their evening.

'Have you any post-horses?' asked the Earl, discontentedly, as the
landlord stood on the threshold, shading the candle with his hand. 'No,
sir. We don't keep post-horses.'

'Of course not. I knew as much before I asked,' said the Earl.

'We are fixed in this dismal hole for the night, I suppose. How far are
we from Fellside?'

'Seven miles,' answered the landlord. 'I beg your pardon, my lord; I
didn't know it was your lordship,' he added, hurriedly. 'We're in sore
trouble, and it makes a man daft-like; but if there's anything we can
do----'

'Is there no hope of getting on, Steadman?' asked the Earl, cutting
short these civilities.

'Not with these horses, my lord.'

'And you hear we can't get any others. Is there any farmer about here
who could lend us a pair of carriage horses?'

The landlord knew of no such person.

'Then we must stop here till to-morrow morning. What infernal fools
those post-boys must be,' protested Lord Maulevrier.

James Steadman apologised for the postilions, explaining that when they
came to the critical point of their journey, where the road branched off
to the Langdales, the snow was falling so thickly, the whole country was
so hidden in all-pervading whiteness, that even he, who knew the way so
well, could give no help to the drivers. He could only trust to the
instinct of local postilions and local horses; and instinct had proved
wrong.

The travellers alighted, and were ushered into a not
uncomfortable-looking parlour; very low as to the ceiling, very
old-fashioned as to the furniture, but spotlessly clean, and enlivened
by a good fire, to which his lordship drew near, shivering and muttering
discontentedly to himself.

'We might be worse off,' said her ladyship, looking round the bright
little room, which pleased her better than many a state apartment in the
large hotels at which they had stopped.

'Hardly, unless we were out on the moor,' grumbled her husband. 'I am
sick to death of this ill-advised, unreasonable journey. I am at a loss
to imagine your motive in bringing me here. You must have had a motive.'

'I had,' answered Lady Maulevrier, with a freezing look. 'I wanted to
get you out of the way. I told you that plainly enough at Southampton.'

'I don't see why I should be hurried away and hidden,' said Lord
Maulevrier. 'I must face my accuse