side of the hamlet of Froyl, where an autumn freshet, flooding the
highway, had been caught by the frost and fixed in a rippled floor of
ice. We had seen duly to the roughing of our own chargers; and even
they were forced at this passage to feel their steps mincingly; but
the pack-horses, for whom I had only the quartermaster's assurance,
had been handled (if indeed at all) by the inexpertest of smiths.
The poor beasts sprawled and slithered this way and that, and in the
end, as if by consent, came to a pitiful halt, their knees shaking
under them. So they appeared willing to wait and tremble until
morning: but on my order Randles, Owen, and Masters, dismounting, led
them and their own horses, foot by foot, on to sure ground.

For a mile beyond, and some way past Froyl, was safe going if we
avoided the ruts. But here the moon failed us; and when Carey lit a
lantern to help, it showed us that the carriers had no stomach left
in them. One, though the froth froze on him, was sweating like a
resty colt. The other two, if we slacked hold on their halter-ropes,
would lurch together, halt, and slue neck to neck like a couple of
timid dowagers hesitating upon a question of delicacy.

It was here that there came into my head the ill-starred thought of
leading them off the road and through the fields close alongside of
it on our left hand. The road itself I knew pretty well, and that it
bore gradually to the left, all the way to Alton. Carey, whom I
consulted, agreed that we could find it again at any time we chose.
So, and without more ado, we opened the next gate we came to and
herded the beasts through.

The first two fields, being stubble, served us well; and the next,
a pasture, was even better. Beyond this we had some trouble to