110
TALES OF MY LANDLORD.
CHAPTER VI.
Yea, this man's brow, like to a tragic leaf,
Foretels the nature of a tragic volume.
Shakspeare.
Being at length rid of the housekeeper's presence, Morton made a collection of what he had reserved from the provisions set before him, and prepared to carry them to his concealed guest. He did not think it necessary to take a light, being perfectly acquainted with every turn of the road; and it was lucky he did not do so, for he had hardly stepped beyond the threshold ere a heavy trampling of horses announced, that the body of cavalry, whose kettle-drums they had before heard, were in the act of passing along the high-road
