h day, though as the head of a large house in
which there were several younger partners, he claimed and enjoyed all
the leisure he desired. For these reasons young Pownal had found no
fitting opportunity to speak in the presence of Holden of the purpose
which brought the Solitary to the city, and besides, he did not
wish to do so, until the time should arrive for his own return
to Hillsdale, when he hoped, with the assistance of his uncle, to
persuade him to return home. But the business of the young man was at
last completed, and he was ready to retrace his steps.

It was then one evening when both Mr. and Mrs. Pownal were present,
and immediately preceding the day when he had announced his intention
to depart, that Holden, at the solicitation of young Pownal, supported
by the courteous entreaties of his uncle, narrated the events of his
life, which are already known to the reader, and avowed with that
unshaken trust in Providence, which in all circumstances sustained
him, his resolution to beg his way through the world on his sacred
search. His hosts had become, by this time, so accustomed to the fiery
enthusiasm and antique diction of his discourse, that they no longer
excited their surprise, but as he proceeded with his tale, the
attention of both seemed arrested by a strange fascination. Even the
figure of Mrs. Pownal lost its listlessness. Her black eyes became
riveted on the speaker. She bent forward, with parted lips, as
if unwilling to lose a word, while from time to time glances of
intelligence passed between the husband and wife, which neither Pownal
nor Holden were able to understand.

"Thus far," said the enthusiast, in conclusion, "the Lord hath led me
on. By flood and fire, and in battle He hath preserved a life, that
long was wearisome to me. But in these latter days, He hath awakened
a new hope, and given me an assurance thereof which I can better feel
than tell. He hath not prolonged my life for naught. Behold, I know
assuredly, that the child liveth, and that in my flesh, I shall see
His salvation. Therefore, in obedience to the inner voice, will I gird
up my loins, and after thanking you my friends, for the bread we have
broken together, and the roof that hath sheltered the wanderer's head,
will I proceed upon my way."

He rose and strode across the room, as if to put his design into
instant execution, but the voice of the elder Pownal arrested him.

"Stay," he said, "and listen. Your steps have