It was a very fine night. The snow was well trodden on the drive, so that it did not wet their feet, but on the trees and shrubs it hung soft and white.
"It's much jollier being out at night than in the daytime," said Robin.
"Much," responded Nicholas, with intense feeling.
"We'll go a wassailing next week," said Robin. "I know all about it; and perhaps we shall get a good lot of money, and then we'll buy tin swords with scabbards for next year. I don't like these sticks. Oh, dear, I wish it wasn't so long between one Christmas and another."
"Where shall we go first?" asked Nicholas, as they turned into the high-road. But before Robin could reply, Dora clung to Nicholas, crying, "Oh, look at those men!"
The boys looked up the road, down which three men were coming in a very unsteady fashion, and shouting as they rolled from side to side.
"They're drunk," said Nicholas; "and they're shouting at us."
"Oh, run, run!" cried Dora; and down the road they ran, the men shouting and following them. They had not run far, when Hector caught his foot in the Captain's great-coat which he was wearing, and came down headlong in the road. They were close by a gate, and when Nicholas had set Hector on his legs, St. George hastily opened it.
"This is the first house," he said. "We'll act here;" and all, even the Valiant Slasher, pressed in as quickly as possible. Once safe within the grounds, they shouldered their sticks and resumed their composure.
"You're going to the front door," said Nicholas. "Mummers ought to go to the back."