need were, for one little half-hour! At all events it was
worth trying for; so away I darted again, with the wind whistling about
my ears, and the rain driving in my face.

But my troubles were not to be so speedily ended. Among the ten or
fifteen equipages which I found drawn up in file, there was not one
hackney vehicle. They were private carriages, and all, therefore,
inaccessible.

Did I say inaccessible?

A bold idea occurred to me. The rain was so heavy that it could scarcely
be expected to last many minutes. The carriage at the very end of the
line was not likely to be the first called; and, even if it were, one
could spring out in a moment, if necessary. In short, the very daring of
the deed was as attractive as the shelter! I made my way swiftly down
the line. The last carriage was a neat little brougham, and the
coachman, with his hat pulled down over his eyes, and his collar drawn
up about his ears, was too much absorbed in taking care of himself and
his horses to pay much attention to a foot-passenger. I passed boldly
by--doubled back stealthily on my own steps--looked round
cautiously--opened the door, and glided in.

It was a delightfully comfortable little vehicle--cushioned, soft,
yielding, and pervaded by a delicate perfume of eglantine. Wondering who
the owner might be--if she was young--if she was pretty--if she was
married, or single, or a widow--I settled myself in the darkest corner
of the carriage, intending only to remain there till the rain had
abated. Thus I fell, as fate would have it--first into a profound
reverie, and then into a still profounder sleep. How long this sleep may
have lasted I know not. I only remember becoming slowly conscious of a
gentle movement, which, without awaking, partly roused me; of a check to
that movement, which brought my thoughts suddenly to the surface; of a
stream of light--of an open door--a crowded hall--a lady waiting to come
out, and a little crowd of attentive beaux surrounding her!

I comprehended my position in an instant, and the impossibility of
extricating myself from it. To get out next the house was to brave
detection; whilst at the other side I found myself blocked in by
carriages. Escape was now hopeless! I turned hot and cold; I shrank
back; I would have gone through the bottom of the carriage, if I could.
At this moment, to my horror, the footman opened the door. I gave myself
up for lost, and, in a sudden access of desperation, was on the