I think it has in it all the elements of that mysterious
and romantic narrative, so greedily sought after at the present day.
THE STOUT GENTLEMAN.
A STAGE-COACH ROMANCE.
"I'll cross it, though it blast me!"
--_Hamlet_.
It was a rainy Sunday, in the gloomy month of November. I had been
detained, in the course of a journey, by a slight indisposition, from
which I was recovering; but I was still feverish, and was obliged to
keep within doors all day, in an inn of the small town of Derby. A wet
Sunday in a country inn!--whoever has had the luck to experience one
can alone judge of my situation.
The rain pattered against the casements; the bells tolled for church
with a melancholy sound. I went to the windows, in quest of something
to amuse the eye; but it seemed as if I had been placed completely out
of the reach of all amusement. The windows of my bed-room looked out
among tiled roofs and stacks of chimneys, while those of my
sitting-room commanded a full view of the stable-yard. I know of
nothing more calculated to make a man sick of this world, than a
stable-yard on a rainy day. The place was littered with wet straw,
that had been kicked about by travellers and stable-boys.
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