rection. There
was no doubt of it-there was a light; no Jack-o'-Lantern either, but
a good respectable light, of domestic habits, shining steadily and
brightly. It seemed far off; but there is nothing so deceptive as the
view over a flat surface. In any case, I resolved to make for it; and
so, seizing my staff, I once more set forward. Unhappily, however, I
soon perceived that the road led off in a direction exactly the reverse
of the object I sought, and I was now obliged to make my choice of
quitting the path or abandoning the light; my resolve was quickly made,
and I started off across the plain, with my eyes steadily fixed upon my
beacon.

The mountain was marshy and wet--that wearisome surface of spongy
hillock, and low, creeping brushwood, the most fatal thing to a
tired walker--and I made but slow progress; besides, frequently, from
inequalities of the soil, I would lose sight of the light for half an
hour together, and then, on its reappearing suddenly, discover how far
I had wandered out of the direct line. These little aberrations did not
certainly improve my temper, and I plodded along, weary of limb and out
of spirits.

At length I came to the verge of a declivity. Beneath me lay a valley,
winding and rugged, with a little torrent brawling through rocks and
stones--a wild and gloomy scene by the imperfect light of the stars.
On the opposite mountain stood the coveted light, which now I could
discover proceeded from a building of some size, at least so far as I
could pronounce from the murky shadow against the background of sky.

I summoned up one great effort, and pushed down the slope--now sliding
on hands and feet, now trusting to a run of some yards where the ground
was more feasible. After a fatiguing course of two hours, I reached the
crest of the opposite hill, and stood within a few hundred yards of the
house--the object of my wearisome journey. It was indeed in keeping with
the deserted wildness of the place. A ruined tower, one of those square
keeps which formerly were intended as frontier defences, standing on a
rocky base, beside the edge of a steep cliff, had been made a dwelling
of by some solitary herdsman--for so the sheep collected within a little
inclosure bespoke him. The rude efforts to make the place habitable
were conspicuous in the door formed of wooden planks nailed coarsely
together, and the window, whose panes were made of a thin substance like
parchment, through which, however, t