ly carried home
bread. I rolled my blanket up and pocketed my reserve white
writing-paper. Then I ransacked every corner to assure myself that I
had left nothing behind, and as I could not find anything, went over to
the window and looked out.

The morning was gloomy and wet; there was no one about at the burnt-out
smithy, and the clothesline down in the yard stretched tightly from
wall to wall shrunken by the wet. It was all familiar to me, so I
stepped back from the window, took the blanket under my arm, and made a
low bow to the lighthouse director's announcement, bowed again to Miss
Andersen's winding-sheet advertisement, and opened the door. Suddenly
the thought of my land-lady struck me; she really ought to be informed
of my leaving, so that she could see she had had an honest soul to deal
with.

I wanted also to thank her in writing for the few days' overtime in
which I occupied the room. The certainty that I was now saved for some
time to come increased so strongly in me that I even promised her five
shillings. I would call in some day when passing by.

Besides that, I wanted to prove to her what an upright sort of person
her roof had sheltered.

I left the note behind me on the table.

Once again I stopped at the door and turned round; the buoyant feeling
of having risen once again to the surface charmed me, and made me feel
grateful towards God and all creation, and I knelt down at the bedside
and thanked God aloud for His great goodness to me that morning.

I knew it; ah! I knew that the rapture of inspiration I had just felt
and noted down was a miraculous heaven-brew in my spirit in answer to
my yesterday's cry for aid.

"It was God! It was God!" I cried to myself, and I wept for enthusiasm
over my own words; now and then I had to stop and listen if any one was
on the stairs. At last I rose up and prepared to go. I stole
noiselessly down each flight and reached the door unseen.

The streets were glistening from the rain which had fallen in the early
morning. The sky hung damp and heavy over the town, and there was no
glint of sunlight visible. I wondered what the day would bring forth? I
went as usual in the direction of the Town Hall, and saw that it was
half-past eight. I had yet a few hours to walk about; there was no use
in going to the newspaper office before ten, perhaps eleven. I must
lounge about so long, and think, in the meantime, over some expedient
to raise breakfast. For that matter,