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 does 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 at which he had said we
should arrive.
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.
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