'that I am so near my end as I was yesterday.'
'Yes, thou art,' said the woman; 'thou wast not doomed to die yesterday;
an invisible hand was watching over thee yesterday; but thy day will
come, therefore improve the time; be grateful that thou wast saved
yesterday; and, oh! reflect on one thing; if thou hadst died yesterday,
where wouldst thou have been now?' 'Cast into the earth, perhaps,' said
I. 'I have heard Mr. Petulengro say that to be cast into the earth is
the natural end of man.' 'Who is Mr. Petulengro?' said Peter,
interrupting his wife, as she was about to speak. 'Master of the horse-
shoe,' said I; 'and, according to his own account, king of Egypt.' 'I
understand,' said Peter, 'head of some family of wandering Egyptians--they
are a race utterly godless. Art thou of them?--but no, thou art not,
thou hast not their yellow blood. I suppose thou belongest to the family
of wandering artisans called ---. I do not like you the worse for
belonging to them. A mighty speaker of old sprang up from amidst that
family.' 'Who was he?' said I. 'John Bunyan,' replied Peter,
reverently, 'and the mention of his name reminds me that I have to preach
this day; wilt thou go and hear? the distance is not great, only half a
mile.' 'No,' said I, 'I will not go and hear.' 'Wherefore?' said Peter.
'I belong to the church,' said I, 'and not to the congregations.' 'Oh!
the pride of that church,' said Peter, addressing his wife in their own
tongue, 'exemplified even in the lowest and most ignorant of its members.
Then thou, doubtless, meanest to go to church,' said Peter, again
addressing me; 'there is a church on the other side of that wooded hill.'
'No,' said I, 'I do not mean to go to church.' 'May I ask thee
wherefore?' said Peter. 'Because,' said I, 'I prefer remaining beneath
the shade of these trees, listening to the sound of the leaves and the
tinkling of the waters.'

'Then thou intendest to remain here?' said Peter, looking fixedly at me.
'If I do not intrude,' said I; 'but if I do, I will wander away; I wish
to be beholden to nobody--perhaps you wish me to go?' 'On the contrary,'
said Peter, 'I wish you to stay. I begin to see something in thee which
has much interest for me; but we must now bid thee farewell for the rest
of the day, the time is drawing nigh for us to repair to the place of
preaching; before we leave thee alone, however, I should wish to ask thee
a question--Didst thou seek thy own destruct