"What d'ye say t' that, my fine, nice laddie--eh, eh?" piped the old, witch-like creature, leering at me hideously. "Ann's a beauty, ain't she? Made to be kissed an' all, ain't she, eh? If I was you, I'd kiss 'er afore ye reached the next milestone an' that ain't fur--kiss 'er afore she knowed, I would, an' if she takes it unkind, never trouble, jest you wait till she's asleep--steal 'er little knife an'--" "Let us go!" said I hastily, getting to my feet. "That's th' sperrit, laddie, that's th' sperrit!" croaked the old woman. "Afore th' next milestone--on th' lips! All maids love it an' so'll she, 'spite all 'er skittish ways--on 'er mouth, mind!" But I hasted away, nor paused until I was some distance down the road, then glancing back, I saw Diana bestow on this frightful old creature all that remained of our dinner, and money besides. "A truly dreadful old person, Diana!" said I, as she joined me. "I wonder you can stop to consort or speak with such--" "She's a woman, after all, Peregrine, very old and worn and generally hungry. And how can it harm me to be a little kind to her?" "She suggests vile things!" "What o' that, if she don't do 'em, or make others do 'em?" "A horrible creature!" I repeated. "Without a friend in the world, Peregrine." "Do you happen to be acquainted with every discreditable vagabond hereabouts, Diana?" "I knows most o' th' padding kind, trampers and sech. There'll be many going Tonbridge way to-day and tomorrow, because o' the fair." "Then cannot we reach Tonbridge by ways unfrequented?" "There's the field-paths, though 'twill take us a day longer--maybe two--" "No matter, let us go by the field-paths, Diana." So we presently struck off from the great, dusty high-road and went by ways pleasantly sequestered. By shady copse and rustling cornfield; past lonely farms and rick-yards; past placid cows that chewed, somnolent, in the shade of trees or stood knee-deep in stilly pools; past hop-gardens from whose long, green alleys stole a fragrance warm and acridly sweet; past rippling streams that murmured drowsily, sparkling amid mossy boulders or over pebbly beds; past rustics stooped to their leisured toil who straightened bowed backs to peer after us under sunburned hands; wheresoever I looked, I found some new matter for delight. The afternoon was very hot for the wind had fallen, and, being somewhat distressed and weary with travel, I was greatly tempted to propose a halt that I might rest and feast my sight upon the many and varied beauties of this Kentish countryside, but seeing Diana walk with the same smooth, tireless stride, I forbore for very shame. The stream we were following presently brought us to a wood where leaves rustled lazily, birds chirped drowsily and the brook whispered slumberously; a shady wood where wearied travellers might rest awhile, and, their troubles lulled to sleep, dream of journeys ended and happiness to be.