text:  The shadows of the rustic houses and interspersed corn-stacks trees and orchards stretched across the irregular street without a causeway in unbroken quiet; not a sound was heard but the voice of an owl from a "fold" in the very heart of "the town " and the low murmur of the river chafing against the buttresses of an antique bridge at the end of the said "street;" while an humble bow window of a shop where at nightfall I had observed some dozens of watches (_silver_ too!) displayed without a token of "Rebecca" terrorism appearing was seen jutting into the road only hidden not defended by such a weak apology for a shutter as would not have resisted a burglar of ten years' old