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 IV.--A CLASSICAL ENCOUNTER--LONG MELFORD TO THE RESCUE.

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? I have been in the world already without much success. No, I
had better remain here; the place is lonely, it is true, but here I am
free and independent, and can do what I please; but I can't remain here
without food. Well, I will find my way to the nearest town, lay in a
fresh supply of provision, and come back, turning my back upon the world,
which has turned its back upon me. I don't see why I should not write a
little sometimes; I have pens and an ink-horn, and for a writing-desk I
can place the Bible on my knee. I shouldn't wonder if I could write a
capital satire on the world on the back of that Bible; but first of all I
must think of supplying myself with food."

I rose up from the stone on which I was seated, determining to go to the
nearest town, with my little horse and cart and procure what I wanted.
The nearest town, according to my best calculation, lay about five miles
distant; I had no doubt, however, that by using ordinary diligence, I
should be back before evening. In order to go lighter, I determined to
leave my tent standing as it was, and all the things which I had
purchased of the tinker, just as they were. "I need not be apprehensive
on their account," said I to myself; "nobody will come here to meddle
with them--the great recommendation of this place is its perfect
solitude--I dare say that I could live here six months without seeing a
single human visage. I will now h