Then the brilliant idea occurred to one who claimed to know Hastings that a breeze and shady trees would be found in the Castle gardens, on the cliff-top. They climbed that “terrible” road, only to find that the gardens were closed on Sundays, and that, even had they been open, no trees and no shade existed there. Finding at last some stunted, insufficient trees, they rested awhile, descending only to give the girl a chance of fainting in the heat. And so the weary day dragged on until it was time to return home. They all assembled at the railway-station, much to the reader’s surprise. Why had not some of them taken a boat and been drowned, or been eaten by a sea-serpent? Why had they not even missed the train? We shall learn. “Fate cannot harm me, I have dined to-day,” says the poet; but disasters seem inevitably to wait upon those who “trip, trip, trip it” to the sea on Sunday; especially if they dine upon emaciated fowl sinfully masquerading as a young goose. No appalling disaster happened to the swift South Eastern train. It did not, strange to say, break down, and still less did it come into collision with another. Nor even were train-wreckers prowling along the line, to place obstructions upon the metals and so bring the sinful to an appropriately ghastly end. No: nothing of that kind happened; but when two-thirds of the journey had been accomplished a thunderstorm broke. “Never mind, we’ll soon be at home,” said Martha. “Alas! it seemed as if home grew more distant than nearer.” But at last London was reached and an omnibus with difficulty found. On the way, however, a horse, overworked with Sunday labour, fell dead, and the journey had to be miserably finished in the rain. What, by the way, would have been made to happen to a motor-omnibus? _That_ could not fall dead. The party reached home at last, but Martha fell ill, and eventually died of consumption. “Never,” declares the supposed narrator of this elegant piece of fiction, “shall I forget our Sunday Trip to Hastings.” I should think not, indeed! Let us therefore go to Hastings by road: and be sure it is not on a Sunday. [Illustration: A SLAIN NORMAN. _Bayeux Tapestry._] INDEX Amherst, Sir Jeffrey, 71-74 Baldslow, 238 Battle, 188, 199, 228, 231, 232 —— Abbey, 188, 219-34 —— of Hastings, 188, 200-219 Bayham Abbey, 157-59 Beauport Park, 234 Bedgebury Park, 167 Bell Green, 25 Bellingham, 23 Bewl Bridge, 164 Bodiam Castle, 182-86 “Bohemia,” 237 Bromley, 4, 26-47 —— Common, 44-48 Carriers, The, 4, 10 Catford Bridge, 23 Chelsfield, 56 Chevening, 62 “Church in the Wood” (_i.e._ Hollington Church), 236 Coaches:— Express, 7 Hastings Mail (afterwards Hastings and St. Leonards), 6-8, 54-56 Paragon, 7 Regulator, 7 Royal William, 7 United Friends, Sevenoaks, 78 Coaching, 3-10, 54-56, 63, 78