bag, and the little rings
in my ears, and I could live on bread only. My only terror was lest my
father should follow me. But I never paused. I came on, and on, and on,
only eating bread now and then. When I got to Brussels I saw that I
should not have enough money, and I sold all that I could sell; but
here a strange thing happened. Putting my hand into the pocket of my
cloak, I found a half-napoleon. Wondering and wondering how it came
there, I remembered that on the way from Cologne there was a young
workman sitting against me. I was frightened at every one, and did not
like to be spoken to. At first he tried to talk, but when he saw that I
did not like it, he left off. It was a long journey; I ate nothing but
a bit of bread, and he once offered me some of the food he brought in,
but I refused it. I do believe it was he who put that bit of gold in my
pocket. Without it I could hardly have got to Dover, and I did walk a
good deal of the way from Dover to London. I knew I should look like a
miserable beggar-girl. I wanted not to look very miserable, because if
I found my mother it would grieve her to see me so. But oh, how vain my
hope was that she would be there to see me come! As soon as I set foot
in London, I began to ask for Lambeth and Blackfriars Bridge, but they
were a long way off, and I went wrong. At last I got to Blackfriars
Bridge and asked for Colman Street. People shook their heads. None knew
it. I saw it in my mind--our doorsteps, and the white tiles hung in the
windows, and the large brick building opposite with wide doors. But
there was nothing like it. At last when I asked a tradesman where the
Coburg Theatre and Colman Street were, he said, 'Oh, my little woman,
that's all done away with. The old streets have been pulled down;
everything is new.' I turned away and felt as if death had laid a hand
on me. He said: 'Stop, stop! young woman; what is it you're wanting
with Colman Street, eh?' meaning well, perhaps. But his tone was what I
could not bear; and how could I tell him what I wanted? I felt blinded
and bewildered with a sudden shock. I suddenly felt that I was very
weak and weary, and yet where could I go? for I looked so poor and
dusty, and had nothing with me--I looked like a street-beggar. And I
was afraid of all places where I could enter. I lost my trust. I
thought I was forsaken. It seemed that I had been in a fever of
hope--delirious--all the way from Prague: I thought that I was helped,