ii6 BEGGARS ON HORSEBACK. 



broken neck, the cold and stiffness into centuries 

 of Arctic hardship. A monotonous wind sighed 

 round the shanty, and the small uncurtained win- 

 dow held a changeless square of ghostly light., that, 

 in the intervals of the fevered dreams of this mid- 

 summer's night, became a giant luminous match- 

 box hanging on the wall beside us. Once or twice 

 Miss O'Flannigan broached in gloomy monologue 

 reflections proper to the occasion, their leit motif 

 being that we, the newspaper-man, and the two 

 shanty proprietors, were the five highest people 

 in England. I cannot remember that I contrib- 

 uted to the conversation anything more appro- 

 priate than the remark of a slighted Dublin 

 aristocrat, in vindication of her rights of pre- 

 cedence, "and me the rankest lady in the room," 

 — which, indeed, had only a remote and dream- 

 like connection with the subject. 



The luminous paint in the window-frame was 

 just perceptibly brighter when the door of the 

 opposite shanty opened, and we heard a heavy 

 step outside. By this time we had become re- 



