His wife watched the landscape as long as she could, but the snow soon began to darken all the air, and she could see nothing save that blank blinding fall.
Half-way to Fellside there was a point where two roads met, one leading towards Grasmere, the other towards the village of Great Langdale, a cluster of humble habitations in the heart of the hills.

When the horses had struggled as far as this point, the snow was six inches deep on the road, and made a thick curtain around them as it fell.

By this time the Earl had dozed off to sleep.
He woke an hour after, let down the window, which let in a snow-laden gust, and tried to pierce the gloom without.
'As black as Erebus!' he exclaimed, 'but we ought to be close at home by this time.

Yes, thank God, there are the lights.' The carriage drew up a minute afterwards, and Steadman came to the door.
'Very sorry, my lord.

The horses must have taken a wrong turn after we crossed the bridge.