346 A JACOBITE EXILE

were lost, and an enormous number of merchant vessels.
Many steeples, houses, and buildings of all kinds were
overthrown, and the damage in London alone was estimated
at a million pounds. ‘here were few who went to bed that
night; many thought that the whole city would be destroyed.
Towards morning, however, the fury of the gale somewhat
abated, and by nightfall the danger had passed.

The next morning the two friends started, and posted
down to Lancashire. ‘The journey was a long one. In
many places the road was completely blocked by fallen
trees, and sometimes by the ruins of houses and barns. In
the former case long detours had often to be made through
villainous roads, where the wheels sank almost to their
axles, and in spite of the most liberal bribes to post-boys
and post-masters, the journey occupied four days longer
than the usual time. At last they reached the lodge-gate
of Lynnwood. A man came out from the cottage. He
was the same who had been there in Sir Marmaduke’s time.
Charlie jumped out of the post-chaise.

“Why, Norman, don’t you know me?”

The man looked hard at him. “No, sir, I can’t say as
I do.”

“What, not Charlie Carstairs?”

“Bless me, it is the young master!” the man said. “To
think of my not knowing you. But you have changed
wonderful. Why, sir, I have been thinking of you often
and often, and most of all the last three days, but I never
thought of you like this.”

“Why the last three days, Norman?”

“Haven't you heard the news, sir?”

“No, I have heard nothing. Captain Jervoise and I—
my old friend, you know, Norman—have posted all the
way from London, and should have been here six days ago
if it had not been for the storm.”

“Well, sir, there is bad news; at least I don’t know