A waggon lumbered by, and then a labourer or two going to their work, but John kept out of their way, not wanting to be asked questions; there began to be red in the eastern mist, the clock sounded again, and from the slope of the hill, the spires of the churches in the town seemed to be rising out of a great lake of woolly mist. The clock went through all the four quarters, then solemnly told out five strokes--Johnnie's weary night journey was over. CHAPTER TWENTY. THE ROYAL HOTEL. "O haste to aid, ere aid be vain." _Scott_. Though Johnnie's journey was over, his troubles were not at an end. When he came to the first houses, the way seemed still to lengthen out before him, and everything appeared to be still asleep, though the daylight was coming in as brightly as a foggy morning allowed. Nor did he know his way; he had only driven to a timber-yard once with his cousin, and dined with him at a little public-house close by, and had no more than a dim recollection of shops, which looked quite different now, with all their shutters up. Only a milk-cart, coming in with full tins, seemed to give a sign that people would want their breakfast some time or other; and next appeared a very black sweep with his cart, and two miserable little bare-footed boys running beside it, as black as the silhouette over Mrs Thorpe's chimney. Half-past five struck, and charwomen began to come out of side alleys, baker's shops to take down their shutters. Johnnie ventured to ask one of the apprentice boys doing so the way to the Royal George Hotel. "D'ye want to bespeak the best apartments?" was all the answer he got, as the lad stopped his whistling and looked superciliously at Johnnie's battered, dusty working dress, and old straw hat. He found he should only be laughed at and walked on, renewing his question when he saw a good-natured-looking woman in a black bonnet and stout canvas apron, apparently going out for a day's washing. "Is it the Royal or the King George Tavern as you mean, my son?" she asked him. "Oh! the Royal--the one where the gentlemen goes," said Johnnie. "I've got a message for one of 'em." "Bless you, my lad, they won't never let you in at this time of morning," said the woman. "It's very particular," returned John. "I came off at night to tell him." She looked at him curiously. "And what might it be, young man! Some one taken very bad, no doubt." "No--not that," said John, and she looked so kind, he could not help telling. "But he have got a machine, and Jack Swing is coming, and if he don't come home to see to the poor ladies--" "Bless me, and who may it be?" "Captain Carbonel--out at Uphill." "Never heard tell of the place." "It's out beyond Poppleby." "My! And you've comed all that way to-night?" "The ladies are very good. He's a right good gentleman. All one to the poor as to the rich."