and at the places where they plied their trade. This news frightened me very much, and I made up my mind not to travel at night; but, as I got very bad horses, I had to go through a wood about dusk, where something that was hanging struck against me through the open window of the carriage. I took hold of it, and, feeling something rough, asked what it was. It was a hanged man, with woollen stockings. While I was still startled at this, my anxiety was much increased as we drew up before a lonely house in this same wood, and the postilions refused to drive any farther. The place was called Hune. I shall never forget it! A man of rather suspicious appearance received us, and led us into a room in a very retired part of the house, where I found only one bed.
“It was cold, so I had a fire made in a great fireplace. Our whole supper was composed of tea and very coarse bread. My faithful Rockel [her old servant] came to me with a very anxious face and said: ‘Things aren't right here! There's a big room full of fire-arms. I think the other people are out. They are certainly rogues. But I'll sit up all night in front of your chamber with my gun, and will sell my life dearly. The other servant shall sit in the carriage, also with his gun.’ All this, naturally, did not make my sleep peaceful. I sat on a chair and laid my head on the bed. Yet, at last I fell asleep, and how great was my joy on waking, at about four in the morning, to have them come and tell me that all was ready for us to travel on. I then put my head out of the window, and listened to a number of nightingales in the wood in which we were, whose pleasant song made me forget my past anxiety.”
6*
