But as it drew closer she could see the silhouette of a mule cart carrying the swaying lantern light. She could just barely make out the driver, a short and squat figure hunched over in the front seat. And she could just barely hear the odd sort of melody they were humming.
“Who’s out there?” she called out, curious as to who else would be wandering out here at this hour. “State your business!”
As the cart drew nearer, the obscured figure finally came into view. She was an older woman, her face wrinkled and hair grayed from a lifetime of squalor. Halting the cart, she squinted out into the darkness at the questioner.
“What’s eh?” she croaked back at the young woman preventing her travel. “Y’know I could very well ask you the same, dearie. Who d’you think you are just stopping a poor ol’ woman like this? If it’s money yer after, you’ll find none here. I haven’t even seen a fresh shilling in months.”
“All right then. That’s enough, I- "
“Just following the route same again n’again between Brockway and Ogdenville, trying tah fence me wares and scrimp up enough money to buy a proper bloody horse. And now me mule’s lost a shoe so I’m going tah North Haverbrook to see the blacksmith and…”
“That is enough; I do not need to hear-”
“What’s eh, dearie? You’ll have to speak up there; I’m a bit deaf in this ear. Anyway now the blacksmith is…”
“I said that’s enough! I do not care about that or the rest of your ceaseless prattle.”
“Oh, well then. Look at you acting like yer some kind of royalty.”
“I am royalty - you are in the presence of … "