It was near sunset when we came to a great gateway with ramping stone monsters surmounting the posts on either side, and a stone lodge, from which came out a pretty young woman with a little babe in her arms to open the gates.
"Now, young ones, if you like to save the horses a little and try your own legs, you may get out and walk a way," said Mrs. Deborah. "Stop where you see a stone bench and we will take you up again. Keep under the trees and you cannot miss your way."
We descended accordingly, glad of the chance to walk a little. The sun was setting in a great pomp of red and gold, and the moon, near the full and an hour high, hung in the midst of that solemn blue shade which creeps up the eastern sky of a frosty evening. The trees were leafless, of course, but the turf under foot was fresh and green. A low wall bounded the avenue on one side, and on the other spread a waste of bracken and gorse—fuzz they call it there—on which some honey-buds still lingered.
Presently we came upon a troop of deer, which rushed away in great alarm at the sound of our voices. We could see before us the upper part of the great hall gleaming in the solemn sunset rays. The air was clear and sweet with the peculiar fragrance of peat smoke, and a robin was singing an autumn song in the trees. We walked slowly, for the ascent was a steep one, and the carriages were far behind us.
"Does it not seem as if we were approaching an enchanted castle?" said Amabel, as we reached the bench of which Mrs. Deborah had spoken, and sat down to await the carriages which were slowly toiling up the hill.
"I wonder whether we shall find a sleeping beauty?" said I. "As for the dragon, we have brought that along, I think."
"She is certainly a trial," said Amabel. "I do not so much mind her myself, but it does stir me to hear her speak so to poor Aunt Chloe. Do you know, Lucy, I don't believe Aunt Chloe is long for this world?"
"I think the same thing," I answered; "but she herself believes she is going to get better."
"So does Martha Styles," said Amabel, alluding to a poor consumptive girl we sometimes visited in Newcastle. "Did you observe that she was not at all scared at the death-watch, which so alarmed poor Aunt Philippa?"
"I think Mrs. Deborah feels troubled about her. Here comes the carriage at last," as the great lumbering machine reached the level ground where we were standing.