He had a sack over his head and shoulders to protect him from the rain, and stepped out in front of Wogan's horse.

They came to the end of the street and passed on into the open darkness.

About twenty yards farther a house stood by itself at the roadside, but there were only lights in one or two of the upper windows, and it held out no promise of hospitality.

In front of it, however, the man stopped; he opened the door and halloaed into the passage.

Wogan stopped too, and above his head something creaked and groaned like a gibbet in the wind.