I had originally intended to pass the night in the cart, or to pitch my little tent on some convenient spot by the road’s side; but, owing to the alteration in the weather, I thought that it would be advisable to take up my quarters in any hedge alehouse at which I might arrive.  To tell the truth, I was not very sorry to have an excuse to pass the night once more beneath a roof.  I had determined to live quite independent, but I had never before passed a night by myself abroad, and felt a little apprehensive at the idea; I hoped, however, on the morrow, to be a little more prepared for the step, so I determined for one night—­only for one night longer—­to sleep like a Christian; but human determinations are not always put into effect, such a thing as opportunity is frequently wanting, such was the case here.  I went on for a considerable time, in expectation of coming to some rustic hostelry, but nothing of the kind presented itself to my eyes; the country in which I now was seemed almost uninhabited, not a house of any kind was to be seen—­at least I saw none—­though it is true houses might be near without my seeing them, owing to the darkness of the night, for neither moon nor star was abroad.  I heard, occasionally, the bark of dogs; but the sound appeared to come from an immense distance.  The rain still fell, and the ground beneath my feet was wet and miry; in short, it was a night in which even a tramper by profession would feel more comfortable in being housed than abroad.  I followed in the rear of the cart, the pony still proceeding at a sturdy pace, till methought I heard other hoofs than those of my own nag; I listened for a moment, and distinctly heard the sound of hoofs approaching at a great rate, and evidently from the quarter towards which I and my little caravan were moving.  We were in a dark lane—­so dark that it was impossible for me to see my own hand.  Apprehensive that some accident might occur, I ran forward, and, seizing the pony by the bridle, drew him as near as I could to the hedge.  On came the hoofs—­trot, trot, trot; and evidently more than those of one horse; their speed as they advanced appeared to slacken—­it was only, however, for a moment.  I heard a voice cry, ’Push on,—­this is a desperate robbing place,—­never mind the dark’; and the hoofs came on quicker than before.  ‘Stop!’ said I, at the top of my voice; ‘stop! or—­’ Before I could finish what I was about to say there was a stumble, a heavy fall, a cry, and a groan, and putting out my foot I felt what I conjectured to be the head of a horse stretched upon the road.  ‘Lord have mercy upon us! what’s the matter?’ exclaimed a voice.  ‘Spare my life,’ cried another voice, apparently from the ground; ‘only spare my life, and take all I have.’  ’Where are you, Master Wise?’ cried the other voice.  ‘Help! here, Master Bat,’ cried the voice from the ground; ‘help me up or I shall be murdered.’  ’Why, what’s the matter?’ said Bat.  ’Some one has knocked me down, and