I might have been anywhere.

I only knew I was walking in the dark night and among ruts, when I heard very far off, over the silent country that surrounded us, the guard's horn wailing its signal to the next post-house for a change of horses.

It was like the voice of the day heard in darkness, a voice of the world heard in prison, the note of a cock crowing in the mid-seas--in short, I cannot tell you what it was like, you will have to fancy for yourself--but I could have wept to hear it.

Once we were belated: the cattle could hardly crawl, the day was at hand, it was a nipping, rigorous morning, King was lashing his horses, I was giving an arm to the old Colonel, and the Major was coughing in our rear.

I must suppose that King was a thought careless, being nearly in desperation about his team, and, in spite of the cold morning, breathing hot with his exertions.