course, suddenly poised themselves upon the wing and skimmed down the long vista of some opening valley, with the speed of light itself

By degrees, the prospect receded more and more on either hand, and as they had been shut out from rich and extensive scenery, so they emerged once again upon the open country. The knowledge that they were drawing near their place of destination, gave them fresh courage to proceed; but the way had been difficult, and they had loitered on the road, and Smike was tired. Thus, twilight had already closed in, when they turned off the path to the door of a roadside inn, yet twelve miles short of Portsmouth.

`Twelve miles,' said Nicholas, leaning with both hands on his stick, and looking doubtfully at Smike.

`Twelve long miles,' repeated the landlord.

`Is it a good road?' inquired Nicholas.

`Very bad,' said the landlord. As of course, being a landlord, he would say.

`I want to get on,' observed Nicholas. hesitating. `I scarcely know what to do.'

`Don't let me influence you,' rejoined the landlord. `I wouldn't go on if it was me.'

`Wouldn't you?' asked Nicholas, with the same uncertainty.

`Not if I knew when I was well off,' said the landlord. And having said it he pulled up his apron, put his hands into his pockets, and, taking a step or two outside the door, looked down the dark road with an assumption of great indifference.

A glance at the toil-worn face of Smike determined Nicholas, so without any further consideration he made up his mind to stay where he was.

The landlord led them into the kitchen, and as there was a good fire he remarked that it was very cold. If there had happened to be a bad one he would have observed that it was very warm.

`What can you give us for supper?' was Nicholas's natural question.

`Why -- what would you like?' was the landlord's no less natural answer.

Nicholas suggested cold meat, but there was no cold meat -- poached eggs, but there were no eggs -- mutton chops, but there wasn't a mutton chop within three miles, though there had been more last week than they knew what to do with, and would be an extraordinary supply the day after tomorrow.

`Then,' said Nicholas, `I must leave it entirely to you, as I would have done, at first, if you had allowed me.'

`Why, then I'll tell you what,' rejoined the landlord. `There's a gentleman in the parlour that's ordered a hot beef-steak pudding and potatoes, at nine. There's more of it than he can manage, and I have very little doubt that if I ask leave, you can sup with him. I'll do that, in a minute.'

`No, no,' said Nicholas, detaining him. `I would rather not. I -- at least -- pshaw! why cannot I speak out? Here; you see that I am travelling in a very humble manner, and have made my way hither on foot. It is more than probable, I think, that the gentleman may not relish my company; and although I am the dusty figure you see, I am too proud to thrust myself into his.'

`Lord love you,' said the landlord, `it's only Mr Crummles; he isn't particular.'