The Broad Highway - Page 72/374

And, in a little while, I rose, and buckled on my knapsack. The

shadows were creeping on apace, but the sky was wonderfully

clear, while, low down upon the horizon, I saw the full-orbed

moon, very broad and big. It would be a brilliant night later,

and this knowledge rejoiced me not a little. Before me stretched

a succession of hills--that chain of hills which, I believe, is

called the Weald, and over which the dim road dipped, and wound,

with, on either hand, a rolling country, dark with wood, and

coppice--full of mystery. The wind had quite fallen, but from

the hedges, came sudden rustlings and soft, unaccountable noises.

Once, something small and dark scuttered across the road before

me, and once a bird, hidden near by, set up a loud complaint,

while, from the deeps of a neighboring wood, came the mournful

note of a night-jar.

And, as I walked, I bethought me of poor Bill Nye, the Tinker. I

could picture him tramping upon this very road, his jingling load

upon his back, and the "loneliness" upon and around him. A small

man, he would be, with a peaked face, little, round, twinkling

eyes, grizzled hair, and a long, blue chin. How I came to know

all this I cannot tell, only it seemed he must be so. On he

went, his chin first upon one shoulder, and now upon the other,

shooting furtive glances at hedges which were not hedges, and

trees which were not trees. Somewhere there was a "thing" that

looked like a big oak tree in the daytime--a hollow oak. On he

went through the shadows, on and on. Presently he turned out of

the road, and there, sure enough, was the oak itself. Kneeling

down, he slipped off his burden and pushed it through a jagged

hole at the root. Then he glanced round him, a long, stealthy

look, down at the earth and up at the sky, and crept into the

tree. In the dimness I could see him fumble for the thing he

wanted, pause to thumb its edge, and, throwing up his chin, raise

his hand-"Folly!" said I aloud, and stopped suddenly in my stride.

The moon's rim was just topping the trees to my left, and its

light, feeble though it was as yet, served to show that I had

reached a place where four roads met.

Now, casting my eyes about me, they were attracted by a great

tree that grew near by, a tree of vast girth and bigness. And,

as I looked, I saw that it was an oak-tree, near the root of

which there was a jagged, black hole.