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Too sullen for speech, Lord
Maulevrier sat back in his corner, with his sable cloak drawn up to his
chin, his travelling cap covering head and ears, his eyes contemplating
the whitening world with a weary anger. His wife watched the landscape
as long as she could, but the snow soon began to darken all the air,
and she could see nothing save that blank blinding fall.
Half-way to Fellside there was a point where two roads met, one leading
towards Grasmere, the other towards the village of Great Langdale, a
cluster of humble habitations in the heart of the hills. When the horses
had struggled as far as this point, the snow was six inches deep on the
road, and made a thick curtain around them as it fell. By this time the
Earl had dozed off to sleep.
He woke an hour after, let down the window, which let in a snow-laden
gust, and tried to pierce the gloom without.
'As black as Erebus!' he exclaimed, 'but we ought to be close at home by
this time. Yes, thank God, there are the lights.'
The carriage drew up a minute afterwards, and Steadman came to the door.


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