George fought as hard as a dog would do, till my father said that they
must not quarrel during the very short time they had to be together. On
this George gave up one rug meekly enough, and my father yielded about
the basket, and the other rug.
It was about half-past eleven when they started, and it was after one
before they reached the preserves. For the first mile from the town they
were not much hindered by the darkness, and my father told George about
his book and many another matter; he also promised George to say nothing
about this second visit. Then the road became more rough, and when it
dwindled away to be a mere lane--becoming presently only a foot
track--they had to mind their footsteps, and got on but slowly. The
night was starlit, and warm, considering that they were more than three
thousand feet above the sea, but it was very dark, so that my father was
well enough pleased when George showed him the white stones that marked
the boundary, and said they had better soon make themselves as
comfortable as they could till morning.
"We can stay here," he said, "till half-past three, there will be a
little daylight then; we will rest half an hour for breakfast at about
five, and by noon we shall be at the statues, where we will dine."
This being settled, George rolled himself up in his rug, and in a few
minutes went comfortably off to sleep.
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