The Mystery of Edwin Drood HTML version

NEVILLE LANDLESS had started so early and walked at so good a pace, that when the
church-bells began to ring in Cloisterham for morning service, he was eight miles away.
As he wanted his breakfast by that time, having set forth on a crust of bread, he stopped
at the next roadside tavern to refresh.
Visitors in want of breakfast - unless they were horses or cattle, for which class of guests
there was preparation enough in the way of water-trough and hay - were so unusual at the
sign of The Tilted Wagon, that it took a long time to get the wagon into the track of tea
and toast and bacon. Neville in the interval, sitting in a sanded parlour, wondering in how
long a time after he had gone, the sneezy fire of damp fagots would begin to make
somebody else warm.
Indeed, The Tilted Wagon, as a cool establishment on the top of a hill, where the ground
before the door was puddled with damp hoofs and trodden straw; where a scolding
landlady slapped a moist baby (with one red sock on and one wanting), in the bar; where
the cheese was cast aground upon a shelf, in company with a mouldy tablecloth and a
green-handled knife, in a sort of cast-iron canoe; where the pale-faced bread shed tears of
crumb over its shipwreck in another canoe; where the family linen, half washed and half
dried, led a public life of lying about; where everything to drink was drunk out of mugs,
and everything else was suggestive of a rhyme to mugs; The Tilted Wagon, all these
things considered, hardly kept its painted promise of providing good entertainment for
Man and Beast. However, Man, in the present case, was not critical, but took what
entertainment he could get, and went on again after a longer rest than he needed.
He stopped at some quarter of a mile from the house, hesitating whether to pursue the
road, or to follow a cart track between two high hedgerows, which led across the slope of
a breezy heath, and evidently struck into the road again by-and-by. He decided in favour
of this latter track, and pursued it with some toil; the rise being steep, and the way worn
into deep ruts.
He was labouring along, when he became aware of some other pedestrians behind him.
As they were coming up at a faster pace than his, he stood aside, against one of the high
banks, to let them pass. But their manner was very curious. Only four of them passed.
Other four slackened speed, and loitered as intending to follow him when he should go
on. The remainder of the party (half- a-dozen perhaps) turned, and went back at a great
He looked at the four behind him, and he looked at the four before him. They all returned
his look. He resumed his way. The four in advance went on, constantly looking back; the
four in the rear came closing up.
When they all ranged out from the narrow track upon the open slope of the heath, and this
order was maintained, let him diverge as he would to either side, there was no longer