THE YORK ROAD 



513 



ment ; no sweepstakes ; no plate. But at about Alconbury 

 Hill, sixty-four miles from London, where the two roads 

 to York meet, he recovered himself happily from this 

 degraded dejection — asked himself what need he had of 

 spectators, reminded himself that the eye of posterity 

 was upon him, and midway between Alconbury Hill and 

 Stilton (the intersecting dykes, yawners, gullies, or what- 



-* 



•v 



-*■ 



c 



The George, Huntingdon. 



ever they are called, beginning to send forth their steam- 

 ing vapours) burst suddenly from the fog upon the York 

 stage coach. 



It being no uncommon thing for the coach to be 

 stopped, the driver drew up his horses. Turpin at the 

 same moment drew up his mare. I had always hoped 

 that he was going to leap over the York coach too ! But 

 no ! An exclamation was uttered by a gentleman on the 



