The remembrance of that wild night's ride is like a dream to me. I only know that it snowed till after midnight, that it was very dark, and Alick seemed to find his way by some occult sense like a dog. We went up hill and down dale. We forded swollen streams where the ponies could hardly stem the current, and climbed and descended paths so steep and slippery that it was a wonder how they kept their feet or we our seats. Once or twice we passed camps or trains of smugglers conveying whiskey from Scotland into England, but they took no notice of us except to exchange a civil or surly good-night with our guide, who I fancy, might have owed his intimate knowledge of the road to some practise in the same profession. Once we saw a camp of Gypsies in a recess of the hills, their bright fire looking wonderfully attractive in the cold and darkness. The snow was now quite deep and muffled the sound of our horses' feet, which was perhaps the reason why the Gypsies took no notice of us. "I'm glad we are weel past thae folk!" said Alick in a whisper. "They are no good folk to meet in a dark night and a lonely place. Is thae other leddy, waking, do you think, mem? Speak to her and see!" "Are you awake, Amabel?" said I, taking her hand, which felt cold as ice. "Awake!" she repeated in a tone of wonder. "I do not feel as if I should ever sleep again. Lucy, why do we not go faster? They will follow us." "I wad fine like to see them try it, mem!" said Alick, overhearing her words. "Forby any trouble they might have in finding the road, they might not pass thae gentry with the pack horses so easily as we have done. They are no' apt to be that civil to folk they do na ken. Na, na! Dinna be feared my bonny doo—I mean my leddy. We'll be in Scotland in another hour. See, yonder comes the moon." The storm had now ceased, and the waning moon shone out through the clouds, so that we could see where we were going. We had ridden another half hour, when Alick drew bridle on the top of a long hill we had been climbing, and pointed out to me a dark spot in the waste of snow. "Yonder is Tibbie Grey's cottage, mem. We shall soon be there, and then we can rest ourselves and our horses. Tibbie is an honest woman, a far awa' cousin of my own, and will give food, and fire, and a welcome to boot, to any friend to Thornyhaugh." I was thankful to hear it, for I was growing very weary, and so sleepy that I could hardly keep myself awake. We descended a rougher path than any we had yet passed—so rough indeed, that Alick dismounted and led our ponies by the bridle a part of the way. The tree branches brushed our faces in some places; in others, the rocks towered high and seemed ready to fall down on us. "It is turning colder!" said I, shivering. "So much the better, mem. We'll no' have the snow wreaths sliding down on our heads. But we'll soon be out of this den, and then the road is good."