calledFarleighHall——towardthecloseofthehuntingseason。
OnthedayofwhichIamnowwriting——destinedtobeamemorabledayinourcalendar——thehoundsmeetatFarleighHall。Mrs。
FairbankandIaremountedontwoofthebesthorsesinmyfriend’sstables。Wearequiteunworthyofthatdistinction；forweknownothingandcarenothingabouthunting。Ontheotherhand，wedelightinriding，andweenjoythebreezySpringmorningandthefairandfertileEnglishlandscapesurroundingusoneveryside。
Whilethehuntprospers，wefollowthehunt。Butwhenacheckoccurs——whentimepassesandpatienceissorelytried；whenthebewildereddogsrunhitherandthither，andstronglanguagefallsfromthelipsofexasperatedsportsmen——wefailtotakeanyfurtherinterestintheproceedings。Weturnourhorses’headsinthedirectionofagrassylane，delightfullyshadedbytrees。Wetrotmerrilyalongthelane，andfindourselvesonanopencommon。Wegallopacrossthecommon，andfollowthewindingsofasecondlane。
Wecrossabrook，wepassthroughavillage，weemergeintopastoralsolitudeamongthehills。Thehorsestosstheirheads，andneightoeachother，andenjoyitasmuchaswedo。Thehuntisforgotten。Weareashappyasacoupleofchildren；weareactuallysingingaFrenchsong——wheninonemomentourmerrimentcomestoanend。Mywife’shorsesetsoneofhisforefeetonaloosestone，andstumbles。Hisrider’sreadyhandsaveshimfromfalling。But，atthefirstattempthemakestogoon，thesadtruthshowsitself——atendonisstrained；thehorseislame。
Whatistobedone？Wearestrangersinalonelypartofthecountry。Lookwherewemay，weseenosignsofahumanhabitation。
Thereisnothingforitbuttotakethebridleroadupthehill，andtrywhatwecandiscoverontheotherside。Itransferthesaddles，andmountmywifeonmyownhorse。Heisnotusedtocarryalady；hemissesthefamiliarpressureofaman’slegsoneithersideofhim；hefidgets，andstarts，andkicksupthedust。
Ifollowonfoot，atarespectfuldistancefromhisheels，leadingthelamehorse。Isthereamoremiserableobjectonthefaceofcreationthanalamehorse？Ihaveseenlamemenandlamedogswhowerecheerfulcreatures；butIneveryetsawalamehorsewhodidn’tlookheartbrokenoverhisownmisfortune。
Forhalfanhourmywifecapersandcurvetssidewaysalongthebridleroad。Itrudgeonbehindher；andtheheartbrokenhorsehaltsbehindme。Hardbythetopofthehill，ourmelancholyprocessionpassesaSomersetshirepeasantatworkinafield。I
summonthemantoapproachus；andthemanlooksatmestolidly，fromthemiddleofthefield，withoutstirringastep。IaskatthetopofmyvoicehowfaritistoFarleighHall。TheSomersetshirepeasantanswersatthetopofHISvoice:
“Vourteenmile。Gi’oiadrapo’zyder。“
Itranslateformywife’sbenefitfromtheSomersetshirelanguageintotheEnglishlanguage。WearefourteenmilesfromFarleighHall；andourfriendinthefielddesirestoberewarded，forgivingusthatinformation，withadropofcider。Thereisthepeasant，paintedbyhimself！Quiteabitofcharacter，mydear！
Quiteabitofcharacter！
Mrs。Fairbankdoesn’tviewthestudyofagriculturalhumannaturewithmyrelish。Herfidgetyhorsewillnotallowheramoment’srepose；sheisbeginningtolosehertemper。
“Wecan’tgofourteenmilesinthisway，“shesays。“Whereisthenearestinn？Askthatbruteinthefield！“
Itakeashillingfrommypocketandholditupinthesun。Theshillingexercisesmagneticvirtues。Theshillingdrawsthepeasantslowlytowardmefromthemiddleofthefield。IinformhimthatwewanttoputupthehorsesandtohireacarriagetotakeusbacktoFarleighHall。Wherecanwedothat？Thepeasantanswerswithhiseyeontheshilling:
“AtOonderbridge，tobezure。“AtUnderbridge，tobesure。
“IsitfartoUnderbridge？“
Thepeasantrepeats，“VartoOonderbridge？“——andlaughsatthequestion。“Hoo-hoo-hoo！“Underbridgeisevidentlycloseby——ifwecouldonlyfindit。“Willyoushowustheway，myman？““Willyougi’oiadrapofzyder？“Icourteouslybendmyhead，andpointtotheshilling。Theagriculturalintelligenceexertsitself。Thepeasantjoinsourmelancholyprocession。Mywifeisafinewoman，butheneveroncelooksatmywife——and，moreextraordinarystill，heneverevenlooksatthehorses。Hiseyesarewithhismind——andhismindisontheshilling。
Wereachthetopofthehill——and，beholdontheotherside，nestlinginavalley，theshrineofourpilgrimage，thetownofUnderbridge！Hereourguideclaimshisshilling，andleavesustofindouttheinnforourselves。Iamconstitutionallyapoliteman。Isay“Goodmorning“atparting。Theguidelooksatmewiththeshillingbetweenhisteethtomakesurethatitisagoodone。
“Marnin！“hesayssavagely——andturnshisbackonus，asifwehadoffendedhim。Acuriousproduct，this，ofthegrowthofcivilization。IfIdidn’tseeachurchspireatUnderbridge，I
mightsupposethatwehadlostourselvesonasavageisland。
II
Arrivingatthetown，wehadnodifficultyinfindingtheinn。Thetowniscomposedofonedesolatestreet；andmidwayinthatstreetstandstheinn——anancientstonebuildingsadlyoutofrepair。Thepaintingonthesign-boardisobliterated。Theshuttersoverthelongrangeoffrontwindowsareallclosed。Acockandhishensaretheonlylivingcreaturesatthedoor。Plainly，thisisoneoftheoldinnsofthestage-coachperiod，ruinedbytherailway。Wepassthroughtheopenarcheddoorway，andfindnoonetowelcomeus。Weadvanceintothestableyardbehind；Iassistmywifetodismount——andthereweareinthepositionalreadydisclosedtoviewattheopeningofthisnarrative。Nobelltoring。NohumancreaturetoanswerwhenIcall。Istandhelpless，withthebridlesofthehorsesinmyhand。Mrs。Fairbanksauntersgracefullydownthelengthoftheyardanddoes——whatallwomendo，whentheyfindthemselvesinastrangeplace。Sheopenseverydoorasshepassesit，andpeepsin。Onmyside，Ihavejustrecoveredmybreath，I
amonthepointofshoutingforthehostlerforthethirdandlasttime，whenIhearMrs。Fairbanksuddenlycalltome:
“Percy！comehere！“
Hervoiceiseagerandagitated。Shehasopenedalastdoorattheendoftheyard，andhasstartedbackfromsomesightwhichhassuddenlymetherview。Ihitchthehorses’bridlesonarustynailinthewallnearme，andjoinmywife。Shehasturnedpale，andcatchesmenervouslybythearm。
“Goodheavens！“shecries；“lookatthat！“
Ilook——andwhatdoIsee？Iseeadingylittlestable，containingtwostalls。Inonestallahorseismunchinghiscorn。Intheotheramanislyingasleeponthelitter。
Aworn，withered，woebegonemaninahostler’sdress。Hishollowwrinkledcheeks，hisscantygrizzledhair，hisdryyellowskin，telltheirowntaleofpastsorroworsuffering。Thereisanominousfrownonhiseyebrows——thereisapainfulnervouscontractiononthesideofhismouth。IhearhimbreathingconvulsivelywhenIfirstlookin；heshuddersandsighsinhissleep。Itisnotapleasantsighttosee，andIturnroundinstinctivelytothebrightsunlightintheyard。Mywifeturnsmebackagaininthedirectionofthestabledoor。
“Wait！“shesays。“Wait！hemaydoitagain。“
“Dowhatagain？“
“Hewastalkinginhissleep，Percy，whenIfirstlookedin。Hewasdreamingsomedreadfuldream。Hush！he’sbeginningagain。“
Ilookandlisten。Themanstirsonhismiserablebed。Themanspeaksinaquick，fiercewhisperthroughhisclinchedteeth。
“Wakeup！Wakeup，there！Murder！“
Thereisanintervalofsilence。Hemovesoneleanarmslowlyuntilitrestsoverhisthroat；heshudders，andturnsonhisstraw；heraiseshisarmfromhisthroat，andfeeblystretchesitout；hishandclutchesatthestrawonthesidetowardwhichhehasturned；heseemstofancythatheisgraspingattheedgeofsomething。Iseehislipsbegintomoveagain；Istepsoftlyintothestable；mywifefollowsme，withherhandfastclaspedinmine。
Webothbendoverhim。Heistalkingoncemoreinhissleep——
strangetalk，madtalk，thistime。
“Lightgrayeyes“wehearhimsay，“andadroopinthelefteyelid——flaxenhair，withagold-yellowstreakinit——allright，mother！fair，whitearmswithadownonthem——little，lady’shand，withareddishlookroundthefingernails——theknife——thecursedknife——firstononeside，thenontheother——aha，youshe-devil！
whereistheknife？“
Hestopsandgrowsrestlessonasudden。Weseehimwrithingonthestraw。Hethrowsupbothhishandsandgaspshystericallyforbreath。Hiseyesopensuddenly。Foramomenttheylookatnothing，withavacantglitterinthem——thentheycloseagainindeepersleep。Ishedreamingstill？Yes；butthedreamseemstohavetakenanewcourse。Whenhespeaksnext，thetoneisaltered；
thewordsarefew——sadlyandimploringlyrepeatedoverandoveragain。“Sayyouloveme！IamsofondofYOU。Sayyouloveme！
sayyouloveme！“Hesinksintodeeperanddeepersleep，faintlyrepeatingthosewords。Theydieawayonhislips。Hespeaksnomore。
BythistimeMrs。Fairbankhasgotoverherterror；sheisdevouredbycuriositynow。Themiserablecreatureonthestrawhasappealedtotheimaginativesideofhercharacter。Herillimitableappetiteforromancehungersandthirstsformore。Sheshakesmeimpatientlybythearm。
“Doyouhear？Thereisawomanatthebottomofit，Percy！Thereisloveandmurderinit，Percy！Wherearethepeopleoftheinn？
Gointotheyard，andcalltothemagain。“
Mywifebelongs，onhermother’sside，totheSouthofFrance。TheSouthofFrancebreedsfinewomenwithhottempers。Isaynomore。
Marriedmenwillunderstandmyposition。Singlemenmayneedtobetoldthatthereareoccasionswhenwemustnotonlyloveandhonor——
wemustalsoobey——ourwives。
IturntothedoortoobeyMYwife，andfindmyselfconfrontedbyastrangerwhohasstolenonusunawares。Thestrangerisatiny，sleepy，rosyoldman，withavacantpudding-face，andashiningbaldhead。Hewearsdrabbreechesandgaiters，andarespectablesquare-tailedancientblackcoat。Ifeelinstinctivelythathereisthelandlordoftheinn。
“Goodmorning，sir，“saystherosyoldman。“I’malittlehardofhearing。Wasityouthatwasa-callingjustnowintheyard？“
BeforeIcananswer，mywifeinterposes。Sheinsistsinashrillvoice，adaptedtoourhost’shardnessofhearingonknowingwhothatunfortunatepersonissleepingonthestraw。“Wheredoeshecomefrom？Whydoeshesaysuchdreadfulthingsinhissleep？Ishemarriedorsingle？Didheeverfallinlovewithamurderess？
Whatsortofalookingwomanwasshe？Didshereallystabhimornot？Inshort，dearMr。Landlord，tellusthewholestory！“
DearMr。LandlordwaitsdrowsilyuntilMrs。Fairbankhasquitedone——thendelivershimselfofhisreplyasfollows:
“Hisname’sFrancisRaven。He’sanIndependentMethodist。Hewasforty-fiveyearoldlastbirthday。Andhe’smyhostler。That’shisstory。“
Mywife’shotsoutherntemperfindsitswaytoherfoot，andexpressesitselfbyastamponthestableyard。
Thelandlordturnshimselfsleepilyround，andlooksatthehorses。
“Afinepairofhorses，themtwointheyard。Doyouwanttoput’eminmystables？“Ireplyintheaffirmativebyanod。Thelandlord，bentonmakinghimselfagreeabletomywife，addressesheroncemore。“I’ma-goingtowakeFrancisRaven。He’sanIndependentMethodist。Hewasforty-fiveyearoldlastbirthday。
Andhe’smyhostler。That’shisstory。“
Havingissuedthissecondeditionofhisinterestingnarrative，thelandlordentersthestable。WefollowhimtoseehowhewillwakeFrancisRaven，andwhatwillhappenuponthat。Thestablebroomstandsinacorner；thelandlordtakesit——advancestowardthesleepinghostler——andcoollystirsthemanupwithabroomasifhewasawildbeastinacage。FrancisRavenstartstohisfeetwithacryofterror——looksatuswildly，withahorridglareofsuspicioninhiseyes——recovershimselfthenextmoment——andsuddenlychangesintoadecent，quiet，respectableserving-man。
“Ibegyourpardon，ma’am。Ibegyourpardon，sir。“
Thetoneandmannerinwhichhemakeshisapologiesarebothabovehisapparentstationinlife。IbegintocatchtheinfectionofMrs。Fairbank’sinterestinthisman。Webothfollowhimoutintotheyardtoseewhathewilldowiththehorses。Themannerinwhichheliftstheinjuredlegofthelamehorsetellsmeatoncethatheunderstandshisbusiness。Quicklyandquietly，heleadstheanimalintoanemptystable；quicklyandquietly，hegetsabucketofhotwater，andputsthelamehorse’slegintoit。“Thewarmwaterwillreducetheswelling，sir。Iwillbandagethelegafterwards。“Allthathedoesisdoneintelligently；allthathesays，hesaystothepurpose。
Nothingwild，nothingstrangeabouthimnow。Isthisthesamemanwhomweheardtalkinginhissleep？——thesamemanwhowokewiththatcryofterrorandthathorridsuspicioninhiseyes？I
determinetotryhimwithoneortwoquestions。