The roads, even within twelve miles of London, were at that time
ill paved, seldom repaired, and very badly made. The way this rider
traversed had been ploughed up by the wheels of heavy waggons, and
rendered rotten by the frosts and thaws of the preceding winter, or
possibly of many winters. Great holes and gaps had been worn into the
soil, which, being now filled with water from the late rains, were not
easily distinguishable even by day; and a plunge into any one of them
might have brought down a surer-footed horse than the poor beast now
urged forward to the utmost extent of his powers. Sharp flints and
stones rolled from under his hoofs continually; the rider could scarcely
see beyond the animal's head, or farther on either side than his own
arm would have extended. At that time, too, all the roads in the
neighbourhood of the metropolis were infested by footpads or highwaymen,
and it was a night, of all others, in which any evil-disposed person of
this class might have pursued his unlawful calling with little fear of
detection.
Still, the traveller dashed forward at the same reckless pace,
regardless alike of the dirt and wet which flew about his head, the
profound darkness of the night, and the probability of encountering
some desperate characters abroad.
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