heather, and the leaden evening closing in all
around. I shaded my eyes with my hand, and
stared anxiously into the gathering darkness,
where the purple moorland melted into a range
of low hills, some ten or twelve miles
distant. Not the faintest smoke-wreath, not the
tiniest cultivated patch, or fence, or sheep-track,
met my eyes in any direction. There was
nothing for it but to walk on, and take my
chance of finding what shelter I could, by
the way. So I shouldered my gun again, and
pushed wearily forward; for I had been on foot
since an hour after daybreak, and had eaten
nothing since breakfast.

Meanwhile, the snow began to come down with
ominous steadiness, and the wind fell. After
this, the cold became more intense, and the
night came rapidly up. As for me, my prospects
darkened with the darkening sky, and
my heart grew heavy as I thought how my
young wife was already watching for me through
the window of our little inn parlour, and thought
of all the suffering in store for her throughout
this weary night. We had been married four
months, and, having spent our autumn in the
Highlands, were now lodging in a remote little
village situated just on the verge of the great
English moorlands. We were very much in love,
and, of course, very happy. This morning, when
we parted, she had implored me to return before
dusk, and I had promised her that I would. What
would I not have given to have kept my word!

Even now, weary as I was, I felt that with a
supper, an hour's rest, and a guide, I might
still get back to her before midnight, if only
guide and shelter could be found.

And all this time, the snow fell and the night
thickened. I stopped and shouted every now
and then, but my shouts seemed only to make
the silence deeper. Then a vague sense of
uneasiness came upon me, and I began to
remember stories of travellers who had walked
on and on in the falling snow until, wearied
out, they were fain to lie down and sleep
their lives away. Would it be possible, I
asked myself, to keep on thus through all the
long dark night? Would there not come a
time when my limbs must fail, and my resolution
give way? When I, too, must sleep the
sleep of death. Death! I shuddered. How
hard to die just now, when life lay all so bright
before me! How hard for my darling, whose
whole loving heart—but that thought was
not to be borne! To banish it, I shouted
again, louder and longer, and then listened
eagerly. Was my shout answered, or did I only
fancy that I heard a far-off cry? I halloed
again, and again the echo followed. Then a
wavering speck of light came suddenly out of
the dark, shifting, disappearing, growing momentarily
nearer and brighter. Running towards it
at full speed, I found myself, to my great joy,
face to face with an old man and a lantern.

"Thank God!" was the exclamation that burst
involuntarily from my lips.

Blinking and frowning, he lifted his lantern
and peered into my face.

"What for?" growled he, sulkily.

"Well—for you. I began to fear I should be
lost in the snow."

"Eh, then, folks do get cast away hereabouts
fra' time to time, an' what's to hinder you from
bein' cast away likewise, if the Lord's so
minded?"

"If the Lord is so minded that you and I
shall be lost together, friend, we must submit,"
I replied; "but I don't mean to be lost without
you. How far am I now from Dwolding?"

"A gude twenty mile, more or less."

"And the nearest village?"

"The nearest village is Wyke, an' that's
twelve mile t'other side."

"Where do you live, then?"

"Out yonder," said he, with a vague jerk of
the lantern.

"You're going home, I presume?"

"Maybe I am."

"Then I'm going with you."

The old man shook his head, and rubbed his
nose reflectively with the handle of the lantern.

"It ain't o' no use," growled he. "He 'ont
let you in—not he."

"We'll see about that," I replied, briskly.
"Who is He?"

"The master."

"Who is the master?"

"That's nowt to you," was the unceremonious reply.

"Well, well; you lead the way, and I'll
engage that the master shall give me shelter and a
supper to-night."

"Eh, you can try him!" muttered my
reluctant guide; and, still shaking his head, he
hobbled, gnome-like, away through the falling
snow. A large mass loomed up presently out
of the darkness, and a huge dog rushed out,
barking furiously,

"Is this the house?" I asked.

"Ay, it's the house. Down, Bey!" And he
fumbled in his pocket for the key.

I drew up close behind him, prepared to lose
no chance of entrance, and saw in the little
circle of light shed by the lantern that the door
was heavily studded with iron nails, like the door
of a prison. In another minute he had turned
the key and I had pushed past him into the house.

Once inside, I looked round with curiosity,
and found myself in a great raftered hall,
which served, apparently, a variety of uses.
One end was piled to the roof with corn,
like a barn. The other was stored with flour-
sacks, agricultural implements, casks, and all
kinds of miscellaneous lumber; while from the
beams overhead hung rows of hams, flitches,
and bunches of dried herbs for winter use. In
the centre of the floor stood some huge object
gauntly dressed in a dingy wrapping-cloth, and
reaching half way to the rafters. Lifting a
corner of this cloth, I saw, to my surprise, a
telescope of very considerable size, mounted on
a rude moveable platform with four small
wheels. The tube was made of painted wood,
bound round with bands of metal rudely
fashioned; the speculum, so far as I could