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Hall； and our friend in the field desires to be rewarded； for
giving us that information； with a drop of cider。 There is the
peasant； painted by himself！ Quite a bit of character； my dear！
Quite a bit of character！
Mrs。 Fairbank doesn't view the study of agricultural human nature
with my relish。 Her fidgety horse will not allow her a moment's
repose； she is beginning to lose her temper。
〃We can't go fourteen miles in this way；〃 she says。 〃Where is the
nearest inn？ Ask that brute in the field！〃
I take a shilling from my pocket and hold it up in the sun。 The
shilling exercises magnetic virtues。 The shilling draws the
peasant slowly toward me from the middle of the field。 I inform
him that we want to put up the horses and to hire a carriage to
take us back to Farleigh Hall。 Where can we do that？ The peasant
answers （with his eye on the shilling）：
〃At Oonderbridge； to be zure。〃 （At Underbridge； to be sure。）
〃Is it far to Underbridge？〃
The peasant repeats； 〃Var to Oonderbridge？〃and laughs at the
question。 〃Hoo…hoo…hoo！〃 （Underbridge is evidently close byif
we could only find it。） 〃Will you show us the way； my man？〃 〃Will
you gi' oi a drap of zyder？〃 I courteously bend my head； and point
to the shilling。 The agricultural intelligence exerts itself。 The
peasant joins our melancholy procession。 My wife is a fine woman；
but he never once looks at my wifeand； more extraordinary still；
he never even looks at the horses。 His eyes are with his mindand
his mind is on the shilling。
We reach the top of the hilland； behold on the other side；
nestling in a valley； the shrine of our pilgrimage； the town of
Underbridge！ Here our guide claims his shilling； and leaves us to
find out the inn for ourselves。 I am constitutionally a polite
man。 I say 〃Good morning〃 at parting。 The guide looks at me with
the shilling between his teeth to make sure that it is a good one。
〃Marnin！〃 he says savagelyand turns his back on us； as if we had
offended him。 A curious product； this； of the growth of
civilization。 If I didn't see a church spire at Underbridge； I
might suppose that we had lost ourselves on a savage island。
II
Arriving at the town； we had no difficulty in finding the inn。 The
town is composed of one desolate street； and midway in that street
stands the innan ancient stone building sadly out of repair。 The
painting on the sign…board is obliterated。 The shutters over the
long range of front windows are all closed。 A cock and his hens
are the only living creatures at the door。 Plainly； this is one of
the old inns of the stage…coach period； ruined by the railway。 We
pass through the open arched doorway； and find no one to welcome
us。 We advance into the stable yard behind； I assist my wife to
dismountand there we are in the position already disclosed to
view at the opening of this narrative。 No bell to ring。 No human
creature to answer when I call。 I stand helpless； with the bridles
of the horses in my hand。 Mrs。 Fairbank saunters gracefully down
the length of the yard and doeswhat all women do； when they find
themselves in a strange place。 She opens every door as she passes
it； and peeps in。 On my side； I have just recovered my breath； I
am on the point of shouting for the hostler for the third and last
time； when I hear Mrs。 Fairbank suddenly call to me：
〃Percy！ come here！〃
Her voice is eager and agitated。 She has opened a last door at the
end of the yard； and has started back from some sight which has
suddenly met her view。 I hitch the horses' bridles on a rusty nail
in the wall near me； and join my wife。 She has turned pale； and
catches me nervously by the arm。
〃Good heavens！〃 she cries； 〃look at that！〃
I lookand what do I see？ I see a dingy little stable； containing
two stalls。 In one stall a horse is munching his corn。 In the
other a man is lying asleep on the litter。
A worn； withered； woebegone man in a hostler's dress。 His hollow
wrinkled cheeks； his scanty grizzled hair； his dry yellow skin；
tell their own tale of past sorrow or suffering。 There is an
ominous frown on his eyebrowsthere is a painful nervous
contraction on the side of his mouth。 I hear him breathing
convulsively when I first look in； he shudders and sighs in his
sleep。 It is not a pleasant sight to see； and I turn round
instinctively to the bright sunlight in the yard。 My wife turns me
back again in the direction of the stable door。
〃Wait！〃 she says。 〃Wait！ he may do it again。〃
〃Do what again？〃
〃He was talking in his sleep； Percy； when I first looked in。 He
was dreaming some dreadful dream。 Hush！ he's beginning again。〃
I look and listen。 The man stirs on his miserable bed。 The man
speaks in a quick； fierce whisper through his clinched teeth。
〃Wake up！ Wake up； there！ Murder！〃
There is an interval of silence。 He moves one lean arm slowly
until it rests over his throat； he shudders； and turns on his
straw； he raises his arm from his throat； and feebly stretches it
out； his hand clutches at the straw on the side toward which he has
turned； he seems to fancy that he is grasping at the edge of
something。 I see his lips begin to move again； I step softly into
the stable； my wife follows me； with her hand fast clasped in mine。
We both bend over him。 He is talking once more in his sleep
strange talk； mad talk； this time。
〃Light gray eyes〃 （we hear him say）； 〃and a droop in the left
eyelidflaxen hair； with a gold…yellow streak in itall right；
mother！ fair； white arms with a down on themlittle； lady's hand；
with a reddish look round the fingernailsthe knifethe cursed
knifefirst on one side； then on the otheraha； you she…devil！
where is the knife？〃
He stops and grows restless on a sudden。 We see him writhing on
the straw。 He throws up both his hands and gasps hysterically for
breath。 His eyes open suddenly。 For a moment they look at
nothing； with a vacant glitter in themthen they close again in
deeper sleep。 Is he dreaming still？ Yes； but the dream seems to
have taken a new course。 When he speaks next； the tone is altered；
the words are fewsadly and imploringly repeated over and over
again。 〃Say you love me！ I am so fond of YOU。 Say you love me！
say you love me！〃 He sinks into deeper and deeper sleep； faintly
repeating those words。 They die away on his lips。 He speaks no
more。
By this time Mrs。 Fairbank has got over her terror； she is devoured
by curiosity now。 The miserable creature on the straw has appealed
to the imaginative side of her character。 Her illimitable appetite
for romance hungers and thirsts for more。 She shakes me
impatiently by the arm。
〃Do you hear？ There is a woman at the bottom of it； Percy！ There
is love and murder in it； Percy！ Where are the people of the inn？
Go into the yard； and call to them again。〃
My wife belongs； on her mother's side； to the South of