Had he been going through a town, who would have taken him in at that time of the midnight-morning?
and here he was in a long lane without sign of turning! To him it had neither beginning nor end, like a lane in a dream.

It might be a lane in a dream! He could remember feeling overwhelmed with sleep in a dream! Still he did not think he was dreaming: for one thing, he had never been so uncomfortable in a dream! The lane at last opened on a triangular piece of sward, looking like a village green.

In the middle of it stood a great old tree, with a bench round it.

He dropped on the bench and was asleep in a moment.
The wind blew, and the rain fell.

Cold and discomfort ruled his dim consciousness, but he slept like one of the dead.