ll then why Mary was annoyed at my having
overheard her, but at once I recollected what she had said about me. I
made no answer. Mary sat down, leaned her forehead against her hands,
and was also silent. I, therefore, took my candle and retired. It
appeared that Mary's pride was much mortified at my having heard her
confession of being partial to me--a confession which certainly made
very little impression on me, as I considered that she might, a month
afterwards, confess the same relative to Tom, or any other individual
who took her fancy; but in this I did not do her justice. Her manners
were afterwards much changed towards me; she always appeared to avoid,
rather than to seek, further intimacy. As for myself, I continued, as
before, very good friends, kind towards her, but nothing more. The next
morning I was up at Mr Turnbull's by the time agreed upon, but before I
set off rather a singular occurrence took place. I had just finished
cleaning my boat, and had resumed my jacket, when a dark man, from some
foreign country, came to the hard with a bundle under his arm.

"How much for to go to the other side of the river--how much pence?"

"Twopence," replied I; but not caring to take him, I continued, "but you
only pay one penny to cross the bridge."

"I know very well, but suppose you take me?"

He was a well-looking, not very dark man; his turban was of coloured
cloth--his trousers not very wide; and I could not comprehend whether he
was a Turk or not; I afterwards found out he was a Parsee, from the East
Indies. He spoke very plain English. As he decided upon crossing, I
received him, and shoved off; when we were in the middle of the stream,
he requested me to pull a little way up. "That will do," said he,
opening his bundle, and spreading a carpet on the stern flooring of the
wherry. He then rose, looking at the sun, which was then rising in all
its majesty, bowed to it, with his hands raised, three times, then knelt
on the carpet, and touched it several times with his forehead, again
rose to his feet, took some common field flowers from his vest, and cast
them into the stream, bowed again, folded up his carpet, and begged me
to pull on shore.

"I say my prayers," said the man, looking at me with his dark, piercing
eye.

"Very proper; whom did you say them to?"

"To my God."

"But why don't you say them on shore?"

"Can't see sun in the house; suppose I go out little boys laugh and
throw mud.