And now, as I see the
night is settled to be a fine one, I will walk on to
------, where I must meet a coach to-morrow, as it
passes to Edinburgh.''
So saying, I paid my moderate reckoning, and
took my leave, without being able to discover whether
the prejudiced and hard-hearted old woman
did, or did not, suspect the identity of her guest
with the Chrystal Croftangry against whom she
harboured so much dislike.
The night was fine and frosty, though, when I
pretended to see what its character was, it might
have rained like the deluge. I only made the excuse
to escape from old Christie Steele. The horses
which run races in the Corso at Rome without any
riders, in order to stimulate their exertion, carry
each his own spurs, namely, small balls of steel,
with sharp projecting spikes, which are attached
to loose straps of leather, and, flying about in the
violence of the agitation, keep the horse to his
speed by pricking him as they strike against his
flanks. The old woman's reproaches had the same
effect on me, and urged me to a rapid pace, as if
it had been possible to escape from my own recollections.
In the best days of my life, when I
won one or two hard walking matches, I doubt if
I ever walked so fast as I did betwixt the Treddles
Arms and the borough town for which I was
bound.
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