te it might
amuse me; so I took the Bible out of the sack in which it was lying in
the cart, and began to read at the place where I chanced to open it. I
opened it at that part where the history of Saul commences. At first I
read with indifference; but after some time my attention was riveted, and
no wonder; I had come to the visitations of Saul--those dark moments of
his when he did and said such unaccountable things; it almost appeared to
me that I was reading of myself; I, too, had my visitations, dark as ever
his were. Oh, how I sympathised with Saul, the tall, dark man! I had
read his life before, but it had made no impression on me; it had never
occurred to me that I was like him, but I now sympathised with Saul, for
my own dark hour was but recently passed, and, perhaps, would soon return
again; the dark hour came frequently on Saul.

Time wore away; I finished the book of Saul, and, closing the volume,
returned it to its place. I then returned to my seat on the stone, and
thought of what I had read, and what I had lately undergone. All at once
I thought I felt well-known sensations, a cramping of the breast, and a
tingling of the soles of the feet; they were what I had felt on the
preceding day--they were the forerunners of the fear. I sat motionless
on my stone: the sensations passed away, and the fear came not. Darkness
was now coming again over the earth; the dingle was again in deep shade;
I roused the fire with the breath of the bellows, and sat looking at the
cheerful glow; it was cheering and comforting. My little horse came now
and lay down on the ground beside the forge; I was not quite deserted. I
again ate some of the coarse food, and drank plentifully of the water
which I had fetched in the morning. I then put fresh fuel on the fire,
and sat for a long time looking on the blaze; I then went into my tent.

I awoke, on my own calculation, about midnight--it was pitch dark, and
there was much fear upon me.

CHAPTER LXXXV.

Two mornings after the period to which I have brought the reader in the
preceding chapter, I sat by my fire at the bottom of the dingle. I had
just breakfasted, and had finished the last morsel of food which I had
brought with me to that solitude.

"What shall I now do?" said I to myself; "shall I continue here, or
decamp? This is a sad, lonely spot; perhaps I had better quit it; but
whither should I go? the wide world is before me, but what can I do
therein?