He began, apparently with pain,
as if his joints were all but too stiff to move, to go forward in the
direction in which he found himself. I kept my seat. Indeed, I never
thought of dismounting. I was going on to meet what might come. Slowly,
feebly, trembling at every step, the strange steed went, and as he went his
joints seemed to become less stiff, and he went a little faster. All at
once I found that the pleasant field had vanished, and that we were on the
borders of a moor. Straight forward the horse carried me, and the moor
grew very rough, and he went stumbling dreadfully, but always recovering
himself. Every moment it seemed as if he would fall to rise no more, but
as often he found fresh footing. At length the surface became a little
smoother, and he began a horrible canter which lasted till he reached
a low, broken wall, over which he half walked, half fell into what was
plainly an ancient neglected churchyard. The mounds were low and covered
with rank grass. In some parts, hollows had taken the place of mounds.
Gravestones lay in every position except the level or the upright, and
broken masses of monuments were scattered about.
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