RUN FROM "GIBBET GORSE." 55 



facing the stile, which I soon perceived had a young 

 green ashpole of unpleasant-looking strength nailed 

 across the top. Colonel Lowther and Parson Lucas, 

 as he used to be called, seeing a more comfortable- 

 looking place a little to our right, called out to me, 

 " Don't go there ; don't go there ! " But what was to 

 be done ? We had all the sail set that we could possibly 

 carry, and Lambert charged the obstacle. " Over," 

 said I to myself, and at it I went. The mare was 

 blown, and I could feel that she meant to refuse if 

 possible, so I kept her head straight and rammed my 

 spurs in ; but no, she would not have it, or she was 

 too much pumped out to be willing to try. She made 

 a kind of rise, and hitting the ashpole with her knees, 

 over we came into the lane. I have a vague remem- 

 brance to this very day of the sounds of cannon, 

 thunder, cymbals, church-bells, and other kinds of 

 music, with an accompaniment of mighty waters 

 rushing into my ears and over my head ; visions of 

 lightning, and flashings of all kinds of colours, men in 

 red and black and green coats, and every kind of 

 object that can be imagined, and which, I conclude, 

 others in the same predicament may have seen also. 



I remembered nothing more till I found myself 

 in a hot slipper bath in a room at Cottesmore, with 



