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the road； with the mutinous intent of taking it back to Blackheath。 Reins and whip and coachman and guard； however； in bination； had read that article of war which forbad a purpose otherwise strongly in favour of the argument； that some brute animals are endued with Reason； and the team had capitulated and returned to their duty。
With drooping heads and tremulous tails； they mashed their way through the thick mud； floundering and stumbling he between whiles； as if they were falling to pieces at the large joints。 As often as the driver rested them and brought them to a stand； with a wary ‘Wo…ho！ so…ho then！' the near leader violently shook his head and everything upon it……like an unusually emphatic horse； denying that the coach could be got up the hill。 Whenever the leader made this rattle； the passenger started； as a nervous passenger might； and was disturbed in mind。
There was a steaming mist in all the hollows； and it had roamed in its forlornness up the hill； like an evil spirit； seeking rest and finding none。 A clammy and intensely cold mist； made its slow way through the air in ripples that visibly followed and overspread one another； as the waves of an unwholesome sea might do。 It was dense enough to shut out everything from the light of the coach…lamps but these its own workings and a few yards of road； and the reek of the labouring horse steamed into it； as if they had made it all。
Two other passengers； besides the one； were plodding up the hill by the side of the mail。 All three were wrapped to the cheek…bones and over the ears； and wore jack…boots。 Not one of the three could have said； from anything he saw； what either of the other two was like； and each was hidden under almost as many wrappers from the eyes of the mind； as from the eyes of the body； of his two panions。 In those days； travellers were very shy of being confidential on short notice； for anybody on the road might be a robber or in league with robbers。 As to the latter； when every posting…house and ale…house could produce somebody in ‘the Captain's' pay； ranging from the landlord to the lowest stable nondescript； it was the likeliest thing upon the cards。 So the guard of the Dover mail thought to himself； that Friday night in November； one thousand seven hundred and seventy…five； lumbering up Shooter's Hill； as he stood on his own particular perch behind the mail； beating his feet； and keeping an eye and a hand on the arm…chest before him； where a loaded blunderbuss lay at the top of six or eight loaded horse…pistols； deposited on a substratum of cutlass。
The Dover mail was in its usual genial position that the guard suspected the passengers； the passengers suspected one another and the guard； they all suspected everybody else； and the coachman was sure of nothing but the horses； as to which cattle he could with a clear conscience have taken his oath on the two Testaments that they were not fit for the journey。
‘Wo…ho！' said the coachman。 ‘So； then One more pull and you're at the top and be damned to you； for I have had trouble enough to get you to it……Joe！'
‘Halloa' the guard replied。
‘What o'clock do you make it； Joe？'
‘Ten minutes； good； past eleven。'
‘My blood' ejaculated the vexed coachman； ‘and not atop of Shooter's yet！ Tst！ Yah！ Get on with you！'
The emphatic horse； cut short by the whip in a most decided negative； made a decided scramble for it； and the three other horses followed suit。 Once more； the Dover mail struggled on； with the jack…boots of its passengers squashing along by its side。 They had stopped when the coach stopped； and they kept close pany with it。 If any one of the three had had the hardihood to propose to another to walk on a little ahead into the mist and darkness； he would have put himself in a fair way of getting shot instantly as a highwayman。
The last burst carried the mail to the summit of the hill。 The horses stopped to breathe again； and the guard got down to skid the wheel for the descent； and open the coach…door to let the passengers in。
‘Tst Joe！' cried the coachman in a warning voice； looking down from his box。
What do you say； Tom？'
They both listened。
‘I say a horse at a canter ing up； Joe。'
‘I say a horse at a gallop； Tom；' returned the guard； leaving his hold of the door； and mounting nimbly to his place。 ‘Gentlemen！ In the king's name； all of you！'
With this hurried adjuration； he cocked his blunderbuss； and stood on the offensive。
The passenger booked by this history； was on the coach…step： getting in； the two other passengers were close behind him； and about to follow。 He remained on the step； half in the coach and half out of it； they remained in the road below him。 They all looked from the coachman to the guard； and from the guard to the coachman； and listened。 The coachman looked back and the guard looked back； and even the emphatic leader pricked up his ears and looked back； without contradicting。
The stillness consequent on the cessation of the rumbling and labouring of the coach； added to the stillness of he night made it very quiet indeed。 The panting of the horses municated a tremulous motion to the coach； as if it were in a state o＇ agitation。 The hearts of the passengers beat loud enough perhaps to be heard； but at any rate； the quiet pause was audibly expressive of people out of breath； and holding the breath； an' having the pulses quickened by expectation。
The sound of a horse at a gallop came fast and furiously up the hill。
‘So…ho！' the guard sang out； as loud as he could roar。 ‘Yo there！ Stand！ I shall fire！'
The pace was suddenly checked； and； with much splashing and floundering； a man's voice called from the mist； ‘Is that the Dover mail？'
‘Never you mind what it is？' the guard retorted。 ‘Wham are you？'
‘Is that the Dover mail？'
‘Why do you want to know？'
‘I want a passenger； if it is。'
‘What passenger？'；
‘Mr。 Jarvis Lorry。'
Our booked passenger showed in a moment that it was his name。 The guard； the coachman； and the two other passengers eyed him distrustfully。
‘Keep where you are；' the guard called to the voice in the mist； ‘because； if I should make a mistake； it could never be set right in your lifetime。 Gentleman of the name of Lorry answer straight。'
‘What is the matter？' asked the passenger； then； with mildly quavering speech。 ‘Who wants me？ Is it Jerry？'
（‘I don't like Jerry's voice； if it is Jerry；' growled the guard to himself。 ‘He's hoarser than suits me； is Jerry。'）
‘Yes； Mr。 Lorry。'
‘What is the matter？'
‘A despatch sent after you from over yonder。 T。 and Co。'
‘I know this messenger； guard；' said Mr。 Lorry； getting down into the road……assisted from behind more swiftly than politely by the other two passengers； who immediately scrambled into he coach； shut the door； and pulled； up the window。 ‘He may e close； there's nothing wrong。'
‘I hope there ain't； but I can't make so ‘Nation sure of that；' said the guard； in gruff soliloquy。 ‘Hallo you！'
‘Well！ And hallo you！' said Jerry； more hoarsely than before。
‘e on at a footpace！ d'ye mind me？ And if you've got holsters to that saddle o' yourn； don't let me see your hand go nigh 'em。 For I'm a devil at a quick mistake； and when I make one it takes the form of Lead。 So now let's look at you。'
The figures of a horse and rider came slowly through the eddying mist； and came to the side of the mail； where the passenger stood。 The rider stooped； and； casting up his eyes at the guard； handed the passenger a small folded paper。 The rider's horse was blown； and both horse and rider were covered with mud； from the hoofs of the horse to the hat of the man。
‘Guard！' said the passenger； in a tone of quiet business confidence。
The watchful guard； with his right hand at the stock of his raised blunderbuss； his left at the barrel； and his eye On the horseman； answered curtly； ‘Sir。'
‘There is nothing to apprehend。 I belong to Tellson's Bank。 You must know Tellson's Bank in London。 I am going to Paris on business。 A crown to drink。 I may read this？'
‘If so be as you're quick； sir。'
He opened it in the light of the coach…lamp on that side； and read……first to himself and then aloud： ‘〃Wait at Door for Mam'selle。〃 It's not long； you see； guard。 Jerry； say that my answer was； RECALLED TO LIFE。'
Jerry started in his saddle。 ‘That‘s a Blazing strange answer； too；' said he； at his hoarsest。
‘Take that message back； and they will know that I received this； as well as if I wrote。 Make the best of your way。 Good night。'
With those words the passenger opened tile coach…door and got in； not at all assisted by his fellow…passengers； who had expeditiously secreted their watches and purses in their boots； and were now making a general pretence of being asleep。 With no more definite purpose than to escape the hazard of originating any other kind of action。
The coach lumbered on again； with heavier wreaths of mist closing round it as it began the descent。 The guard soon replaced his blunderbuss in his arm…chest； and； having looked to the rest of its contents； and having looked to the supplementary pistols that he wore in his belt； looked to a smaller chest beneath his seat； in which there were a few smith's tools； a couple of torches； and a tinder…box。 For he was furnished with that pleteness that if the coach…lamps had been blown and stormed out； which did occasionally happen； he had only to shut himself up inside； keep the flint and steel sparks well off the straw； and get a light with tolerable safety and ease （if he were lucky） in five minutes。
‘Tom！' softly over the coach…roof。
‘Hallo； Joe。'
‘Did you hear the message？'
‘I did； Joe。'
‘What did you make of it； Tom？'
‘Nothing at all； Joe。'
‘That's a coincidence； too；' the guard mused； ‘for I made the same of it myself Jerry； left alone in the mist and darkness； dismounted meanwhile； not only to ease his spent horse； but to wipe the mud from his face； and shake the wet out of his hat…brim； which might be capable of holding about half a gallon。 After standing with the bridle over his heavily…splashed arm； until the wheels of the mail were no longer within hearing and the night was quite still again； he turned to walk down the hill。
‘After that there gallop from Temple Bar； old lady； I won't trust your fore…legs till I get you on the level；' said this hoarse messenger； glancing at his mare。 ‘〃Recalled to life。〃 That's a Blazing strange message。 Much of that wouldn't do for you Jerry！ I say； Jerry！ You'd be in a Blazing bad way； if recalling to life was to e into fashion； Jerry！'
CHAPTER III
The Night Shadows
Wonderful fact to reflect upon； that every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other。 A solemn consideration； when enter a great city by night； that every one of those darkly clustered houses encloses its own secret； that every room in every one of them encloses its own secret； that every beating heart in the hundreds of thousands of breasts there； is； if some of its imaginings； a secret to the heart nearest it！ Something of the awfulness； even of Death itself； is referable to this。 No more can I turn the leaves of this dear book that loved； and vainly hope in time to read it all。 No more can I look into the depths of this unfathomable water； wherein as momentary lights glanced into it； I have had glimpses of buried treasure and other things submerged。 It was appointed that the book should shut with a spring； for ever and for ever； when I had read but a page。 It was appointed that the water should be locked in an eternal frost； when the light was playing on its surface； and I stood in ignorance on the shore。 My friend is dead； my neighbour is dead； my love the darling of my soul； is dead； it is the inexorable consolidation and perpetuation of the secret that was always in that individuality； and which I shall carry in mine to my life's end。 In any of the burial…places of this city through which I pass； is there a sleeper more inscrutable than it busy inhabitants are； in their innermost personality； to me or than I am to them？
As to this； his natural and not to be alienated inheritance the messenger on horseback had exactly the same possession as the King； the first Minister of State； or the richest merchant in London。 So with the three passengers shut up i' the narrow pass of one lumbering old mail…coach； the were mysteries to one another； as plete as if each ha been in his own coach and six； or his own coach and sixty； with the breadth of a county between him and the next。
The messenger rode back at an easy trot； stopping pretty often at ale…houses by the way to drink； but evincing tendency to keep his own counsel； and to keep his hat cocked over his eyes。 He had eyes that assorted very well with that decoration； being of a surface black； with no depth in the colour or form； and much too near together……as if they were afraid of being found out in something； singly； if they kept too far apart。 They had a sinister expression； under an old cocked…hat like a three…cornered spittoon； and over a great muffler for the chin and throat； which descended nearly to the wearer's knees。 When he stopped for drink； he moved this muffler with his left hand； only while he poured his liquor in with his right； as soon as that was done； he muffled again。
No； Jerry； no！' said the messenger； harping on one theme as he rode。 ‘It wouldn't do for you