She espied at no very great distance a large-sized barn, and at once made for this as a haven of rest.
She had not much difficulty in unfastening the door, which was only secured by a wooden peg. This done, she crept in and stretched herself at full length upon some trusses of straw. She was so overpowered and prostrated, that she soon sank off to sleep, and did not awaken till the voices of men fell upon her ear. She then suddenly sprang to her feet and looked through the crevice of the barn-door.
It was by this time early dawn, and the hilltops were tinted with the rays of the rising sun.
In an adjacent field she beheld two farm labourers at work, and a milkmaid with her pail.
When their backs were turned she crept out of the barn, and passed into the lane which she had traversed on the night previous.
She had sufficient money on her person for her immediate wants; this had been given her by her friend, Mr. Leverall.
As the milkmaid came along with her pail she wished her a good morning.
She was a good-looking buxom wench, with red cheeks and mottled arms—the very personification of rude health and good-nature.
“An’ good morning to you, ma’am,” said the girl, staring with wonder, “but ye be up wi’ the lark, missus.”
“Yes,” said Miss Stanbridge; “I lost my way last night and took shelter in the barn till the morning. I could not find any place open.”