We were numb and wretched, but there was naught for it but to ride on further to the town. It could not be far, and there were signs of morn already in the air. The cold grew more intense and the thick pall of darkness lifted somewhat toward the east. The blurred woods and clogged fields at our side gradually came into view, and as, heart-sick and nigh fordone with want of sleep, we rounded the great barrier ridge of hill, an array of twinkling lights sprang up in front and told us that we were not far from our journey’s end. Nevertheless, it was still dark when we rode into a narrow, cobbled street and stopped at the first hostelry. Now, both the one and the other were too far gone with weariness to do more than drop helplessly from the horses and stagger into the inn parlour. They gave us brandy, and then led us to a sleeping-room, where we lay down like logs and dropped into a profound slumber. When we awoke the morning was well advanced. I was roused by Nicol, who was ever the more wakeful, and without more delay we went down and recruited our exhausted strength with a meal. Then I summoned the landlord, and asked, more from habit than from any clear expectation, whether any travellers had lodged over night. The man answered shortly that there had been a gentleman and a maid, with two serving-men, who had but lately left. In a great haste I seized on my hat and called loudly for the horses. "Where did they go?" I said; "by what way? Quick, tell me." "They took the road doun to the ferry," said he, in great amazement. "It’s no an ’oor since they gaed." Thereupon I flung him his lawing, and we rushed from the house. CHAPTER V EAGLESHAM It was dawning morn, grey and misty, with a thaw setting in on the surface of the snow. Down the narrow, crooked streets, with a wind shivering in our teeth, we went at a breakneck gallop. I lashed my horse for its life, and the poor brute, wearied as it was by the toils of the night, answered gallantly to my call. Sometimes, in a steep place, we slipped for yards; often I was within an ace of death; and at one street-turning with a mighty clatter Nicol came down, though the next minute he was up again. A few sleepy citizens rubbed their eyes and stared from their windows, and in the lighted doorway of a tavern, a sailor looked at us wonderingly. In less time than it takes to tell, we were at the water-edge. Here there is a rough quay, with something of a harbour behind it, where lie the sugar-boats from the Indies, when the flood-tide is too low to suffer them to go up stream to the city. Here, also, the ferry four times daily crosses the river.