"Can you find nothing else to admire but the mare and the equipage?" said Francis Ardry, reproachfully, after he had with some difficulty brought the mare to order.
Lifting my hand, in which I held my stick, I took off my hat. "How beautiful!" said I, looking the lady full in the face.
"_Comment_?" said the lady, inquiringly.
"_Il dit que vous etes belle comme un ange_," said Francis Ardry, emphatically.
"_Mais_, _a la bonne heure! arretez_, _mon ami_," said the lady to Francis Ardry, who was about to drive off; "_je voudrais bien causer un moment avec lui_; _arretez_, _il est delicieux_.--_Est-ce bien ainsi que vous traitez vos amis_?" said she, pa.s.sionately, as Francis Ardry lifted up his whip. "_Bon jour_, _Monsieur_, _bon jour_," said she, thrusting her head from the side and looking back, as Francis Ardry drove off at the rate of thirteen miles an hour.
CHAPTER LIX
The Milestone--The Meditation--Want to Get Up?--The Off-hand Leader--Sixteen Shillings--The Near-hand Wheeler--All Right.
In about two hours I had cleared the Great City, and got beyond the suburban villages, or rather towns, in the direction in which I was travelling; I was in a broad and excellent road, leading I knew not whither. I now slackened my pace, which had hitherto been great.
Presently, coming to a milestone on which was graven nine miles, I rested against it, and looking round towards the vast city, which had long ceased to be visible, I fell into a train of meditation.
I thought of all my ways and doings since the day of my first arrival in that vast city--I had worked and toiled, and, though I had accomplished nothing at all commensurate with the hopes which I had entertained previous to my arrival, I had achieved my own living, preserved my independence, and become indebted to no one. I was now quitting it, poor in purse, it is true, but not wholly empty; rather ailing it may be, but not broken in health; and, with hope within my bosom, had I not cause upon the whole to be thankful? Perhaps there were some who, arriving at the same time under not more favourable circ.u.mstances, had accomplished much more, and whose future was far more hopeful--Good! But there might be others who, in spite of all their efforts, had been either trodden down in the press, never more to be heard of, or were quitting that mighty town broken in purse, broken in health, and, oh! with not one dear hope to cheer them. Had I not, upon the whole, abundant cause to be grateful? Truly, yes!
My meditation over, I left the milestone and proceeded on my way in the same direction as before until the night began to close in. I had always been a good pedestrian; but now, whether owing to indisposition or to not having for some time past been much in the habit of taking such lengthy walks, I began to feel not a little weary. Just as I was thinking of putting up for the night at the next inn or public-house I should arrive at, I heard what sounded like a coach coming up rapidly behind me.
Induced, perhaps, by the weariness which I felt, I stopped and looked wistfully in the direction of the sound; presently up came a coach, seemingly a mail, drawn by four bounding horses--there was no one upon it but the coachman and the guard; when nearly parallel with me it stopped.
"Want to get up?" sounded a voice, in the true coachman-like tone--half querulous, half authoritative. I hesitated; I was tired, it is true, but I had left London bound on a pedestrian excursion, and I did not much like the idea of having recourse to a coach after accomplishing so very inconsiderable a distance. "Come, we can't be staying here all night,"
said the voice, more sharply than before. "I can ride a little way, and get down whenever I like," thought I; and springing forward I clambered up the coach, and was going to sit down upon the box, next the coachman.
"No, no," said the coachman, who was a man about thirty, with a hooked nose and red face, dressed in a fashionably cut great-coat, with a fashionable black castor on his head. "No, no, keep behind--the box a'n't for the like of you," said he, as he drove off; "the box is for lords, or gentlemen at least." I made no answer. "D--- that off-hand leader," said the coachman, as the right-hand front horse made a desperate start at something he saw in the road; and, half rising, he with great dexterity hit with his long whip the off-hand leader a cut on the off cheek. "These seem to be fine horses," said I. The coachman made no answer. "Nearly thoroughbred," I continued; the coachman drew his breath, with a kind of hissing sound, through his teeth. "Come, young fellow, none of your chaff. Don't you think, because you ride on my mail, I'm going to talk to you about 'orses. I talk to n.o.body about 'orses except lords." "Well," said I, "I have been called a lord in my time." "It must have been by a thimble-rigger, then," said the coachman, bending back, and half turning his face round with a broad leer. "You have hit the mark wonderfully," said I. "You coachmen, whatever else you may be, are certainly no fools." "We a'n't, a'n't we?" said the coachman. "There you are right; and, to show you that you are, I'll now trouble you for your fare. If you have been amongst the thimble-riggers you must be tolerably well cleared out. Where are you going?--to ---? I think I have seen you there. The fare is sixteen shillings. Come, tip us the blunt; them that has no money can't ride on my mail."
Sixteen shillings was a large sum, and to pay it would make a considerable inroad on my slender finances; I thought, at first, that I would say I did not want to go so far; but then the fellow would ask at once where I wanted to go, and I was ashamed to acknowledge my utter ignorance of the road. I determined, therefore, to pay the fare, with a tacit determination not to mount a coach in future without knowing whither I was going. So I paid the man the money, who, turning round, shouted to the guard--"All right, Jem; got fare to ---;" {63} and forthwith whipped on his horses, especially the off-hand leader, for whom he seemed to entertain a particular spite, to greater speed than before--the horses flew.
A young moon gave a feeble light, partially illuminating a line of road which, appearing by no means interesting, I the less regretted having paid my money for the privilege of being hurried along it in the flying vehicle. We frequently changed horses; and at last my friend the coachman was replaced by another, the very image of himself--hawk nose, red face, with narrow-rimmed hat and fashionable benjamin. After he had driven about fifty yards, the new coachman fell to whipping one of the horses. "D--- this near-hand wheeler," said he, "the brute has got a corn." "Whipping him won't cure him of his corn," said I. "Who told you to speak?" said the driver, with an oath; "mind your own business; 'tisn't from the like of you I am to learn to drive 'orses." Presently I fell into a broken kind of slumber. In an hour or two I was aroused by a rough voice--"Got to ---, young man; get down if you please." I opened my eyes--there was a dim and indistinct light, like that which precedes dawn; the coach was standing still in something like a street; just below me stood the guard. "Do you mean to get down," said he, "or will you keep us here till morning? other fares want to get up." Scarcely knowing what I did, I took my bundle and stick and descended, whilst two people mounted. "All right, John," said the guard to the coachman, springing up behind; whereupon off whisked the coach, one or two individuals who were standing by disappeared, and I was left alone.
CHAPTER LX
The Still Hour--A Thrill--The Wondrous Circle--The Shepherd--Heaps and Barrows--What do you Mean?--Milk of the Plains--Hengist Spared it--No Presents.
After standing still a minute or two, considering what I should do, I moved down what appeared to be the street of a small straggling town; presently I pa.s.sed by a church, which rose indistinctly on my right hand; anon there was the rustling of foliage and the rushing of waters. I reached a bridge, beneath which a small stream {65} was running in the direction of the south. I stopped and leaned over the parapet, for I have always loved to look upon streams, especially at the still hours.
"What stream is this, I wonder?" said I, as I looked down from the parapet into the water, which whirled and gurgled below.
Leaving the bridge, I ascended a gentle acclivity, and presently reached what appeared to be a tract of moory undulating ground. It was now tolerably light, but there was a mist or haze abroad which prevented my seeing objects with much precision. I felt chill in the damp air of the early morn, and walked rapidly forward. In about half an hour I arrived where the road divided into two, at an angle or tongue of dark green sward. "To the right or the left?" said I, and forthwith took, without knowing why, the left-hand road, along which I proceeded about a hundred yards, when, in the midst of the tongue of sward formed by the two roads, collaterally with myself, I perceived what I at first conceived to be a small grove of blighted trunks of oaks, barked and grey. I stood still for a moment, and then, turning off the road, advanced slowly towards it over the sward; as I drew nearer, I perceived that the objects which had attracted my curiosity, and which formed a kind of circle, were not trees, but immense upright stones. A thrill pervaded my system; just before me were two, the mightiest of the whole, tall as the stems of proud oaks, supporting on their tops a huge transverse stone, and forming a wonderful doorway. I knew now where I was, and, laying down my stick and bundle, and taking off my hat, I advanced slowly, and cast myself--it was folly, perhaps, but I could not help what I did--cast myself, with my face on the dewy earth, in the middle of the portal of giants, beneath the transverse stone.
The spirit of Stonehenge was strong upon me!
And after I had remained with my face on the ground for some time, I arose, placed my hat on my head, and, taking up my stick and bundle, wandered round the wondrous circle, examining each individual stone, from the greatest to the least; and then, entering by the great door, seated myself upon an immense broad stone, one side of which was supported by several small ones, and the other slanted upon the earth; and there, in deep meditation, I sat for an hour or two, till the sun shone in my face above the tall stones of the eastern side.
And as I still sat there, I heard the noise of bells, and presently a large number of sheep came browsing past the circle of stones; two or three entered, and grazed upon what they could find, and soon a man also entered the circle at the northern side.
"Early here, sir," said the man, who was tall, and dressed in a dark green slop, and had all the appearance of a shepherd; "a traveller, I suppose?"
"Yes," said I, "I am a traveller. Are these sheep yours?"
"They are, sir; that is, they are my master's. A strange place this, sir," said he, looking at the stones; "ever here before?"
"Never in body, frequently in mind."
"Heard of the stones, I suppose; no wonder--all the people of the plain talk of them."
"What do the people of the plain say of them?"
"Why, they say--How did they ever come here?"
"Do they not suppose them to have been brought?"
"Who should have brought them?"
"I have read that they were brought by many thousand men."
"Where from?"
"Ireland."
"How did they bring them?"
"I don't know."
"And what did they bring them for?"
"To form a temple, perhaps."
"What is that?"
"A place to worship G.o.d in."
"A strange place to worship G.o.d in."
"Why?"
"It has no roof."
"Yes it has."
"Where?" said the man, looking up.
"What do you see above you?"