him, rode slowly into a small town in which the Corporal in his own
heart, had resolved to bait his roman-nosed horse and refresh himself.
Two comely inns had the younger traveller of the twain already passed
with an indifferent air, as if neither bait nor refreshment made any part
of the necessary concerns of this habitable world. And in passing each of
the said hostelries, the roman-nosed horse had uttered a snort of
indignant surprise, and the worthy Corporal had responded to the
quadrupedal remonstrance by a loud hem. It seemed, however, that Walter
heard neither of the above significant admonitions; and now the town was
nearly passed, and a steep hill that seemed winding away into eternity,
already presented itself to the rueful gaze of the Corporal.

"The boy's clean mad," grunted Bunting to himself--"must do my duty to
him--give him a hint."

Pursuant to this notable and conscientious determination, Bunting jogged
his horse into a trot, and coming alongside of Walter, put his hand to
his hat and said:

"Weather warm, your honour--horses knocked up--next town far as hell!--
halt a bit here--augh!"

"Ha! that is very true, Bunting; I had quite forgotten the length of our
journey. But see, there is a sign-post yonder, we will take advantage of
it."

"Augh! and your honour's right--fit for the forty-second;" said the
Corporal, falling back; and in a few moments he and his charger found
themselves, to their mutual delight, entering the yard of a small, but
comfortable-looking inn.