The temperature fell, and it froze again. Through the window in front I could see the big Finn driver throwing his arms across his shoulders to promote circulation, in the same manner as the London "cabby."
When night drew on we changed horses again at a small dirty post-house in the forest, at the edge of a lake, and then pushed forward again, although it was already long past the hour when he had prophesied our arrival.
Time passed slowly in the darkness, for we had no light, and the horses seemed to find their way by instinct. The rolling of the lumbering old vehicle after six hours had rendered me sleepy, I think, for I recollect closing my eyes and conjuring up that strange scene on board the Lola.
Indeed, I suppose I must have slept, for I was awakened by a light shining into my face and the driver shaking me by the shoulder. When I roused myself and, naturally, inquired the reason, he placed his finger mysteriously upon my lips, saying —
"Hush, your high nobility, hush! Come with me. But make no noise. If we are discovered, it means death for us — death. Come, give me your hand. Slowly. Tread softly. See, here is the boat. I will get in first. We shall not be heard upon the water. So."
And the fellow led me, half-dazed, down to the bank of a broad dark river which I could just distinguish — he led me to an unknown bourne.
