146 HIGHWAYS AND HORSES. 



arrived late but safely at Charmouth, with but a single 

 fare bound for Exeter. It was dark and freezing hard, 

 the weather was most inclement, and the passenger 

 declined to proceed further, so he alighted at the 

 inn for the niq-ht. It was fortunate for him that he 

 did so. But the mails had to go on. Out into the 

 white world, out into the blinding snow, out into an 

 Egyptian darkness of gigantic gloom, fronting the 

 pitiless raging storm the coach proceeded ; fighting 

 its way, ploughing through the deep drifts, struggling 

 slowly, it still crept onwards. The men had their 

 duty to do, and they did it ; but there was danger 

 in the task. It was their business, they faced the 

 risk without a chance of glory. Peaceful heroes 

 they, but heroes still. Some miles on, at the top of 

 a hill, the coach came to a standstill, and was soon 

 snow-bound ; it could neither proceed nor turn back. 

 Leaving the guard in charge of the mails and horses, 

 the driver essayed to return to the village for help, 

 A vain endeavour : he lost his way and nearly his life. 

 Benumbed, and half frozen in his contest with the 

 bitter biting north-easter, not knowing where he was 

 or whither he was wandering, eventually he observed 

 a solitary light gleaming through the darkness, and 

 towards this he clambered over hedges and fields. 

 The welcome beacon led him to a farm-house. The 

 farmer, duly aroused and informed of the state of 

 affairs, got some of his labourers together, and went 

 in search of the snow-bound coach. The bewildered 

 driver could give but little information as to its where- 

 abouts, and the task of discovery was no easy one. 

 The party shouted again and again, but their voices 

 were almost drov.nied by the howling winds, and 

 deadened by the falling snow. They stopped to 



