“‘Mercy, mercy!’ cried the wolf. ‘O! give me back my innocence. Be my Conscience once again.’
“‘Too late!’
“And now a cloud passed over and hid the moon, and next moment, had you looked, neither wolf nor wild boar would you have seen.
“Nothing there save the distant fairy forest, with the wind bending its branches and sighing mournfully across that dreary waste of snow.”
Note 1. A complete description of this caravan is to be found in my book, “The Cruise of the Land Yacht Wanderer,” published by Messrs Hodder and Stoughton, Paternoster Row. The book is at all libraries.