sir. We don't keep post-horses.'

'Of course not. I knew as much before I asked,' said the Earl.

'We are fixed in this dismal hole for the night, I suppose. How far are
we from Fellside?'

'Seven miles,' answered the landlord. 'I beg your pardon, my lord; I
didn't know it was your lordship,' he added, hurriedly. 'We're in sore
trouble, and it makes a man daft-like; but if there's anything we can
do----'

'Is there no hope of getting on, Steadman?' asked the Earl, cutting
short these civilities.

'Not with these horses, my lord.'

'And you hear we can't get any others. Is there any farmer about here
who could lend us a pair of carriage horses?'

The landlord knew of no such person.

'Then we must stop here till to-morrow morning. What infernal fools
those post-boys must be,' protested Lord Maulevrier.

James Steadman apologised for the postilions, explaining that when they
came to the critical point of their journey, where the road branched off
to the Langdales, the snow was falling so thickly, the whole country was
so hidden in all-pervading whiteness, that even he, who knew the way so
well, could give no help to the drivers. He could only trust to the