"The Colonel's? why, straight afore you;—follow your nose, you buzzard!"
Here I interposed. "Be so good, friend, as to inform me how far we are yet from Colonel Talbot's house?"
"Who have you got here?" cried the man in surprise.
"A lady, comed over the sea to visit the Colonel."
"Then," said the man, approaching my carriage—my cart, I should say—with much respect, "I guess you're the lady that the Colonel has been looking out for this week past. Why, I've been three times to St. Thomas's with the team after you!"
"I'm very sorry you've had the trouble!"
"O, no trouble at all—shall I ride back and tell him you're coming?"
This I declined, for the poor man was evidently going home to his supper.
To hear that the formidable Colonel was anxiously expecting me was very encouraging, and, from the man's description, I supposed that we were close to the house. Not so; the road, mocking my impatience, took so many bends, and sweeps, and windings, up hill and down hill, that it was an eternity before we arrived. The Colonel piques himself exceedingly on this graceful and picturesque approach to his residence, and not without reason; but on the present occasion I could have preferred a line more direct to the line of beauty. The darkness, which concealed its charms, left me sensible only to its length.
On ascending some high ground, a group of buildings was dimly descried. And after oversetting part of a snake-fence before we found an entrance, we drove up to the door. Lights were gleaming in the windows, and the Colonel sallied forth with prompt gallantry to receive me.