tor, was considerably
beaten. His bruises, in conjunction with his pecuniary loss, which
amounted to about seven pounds, were the cause of his being much out of
humour; before night, however, he had returned to his usual philosophic
frame of mind, and, coming up to me as I was walking about, apologised
for his behaviour on the preceding day, and assured me that he was
determined, from that time forward, never to quarrel with a friend for
giving him good advice.

Two more days passed, and still Isopel Berners did not return. Gloomy
thoughts and forebodings filled my mind. During the day I wandered about
the neighbouring roads in the hopes of catching an early glimpse of her
and her returning vehicle; and at night lay awake, tossing about on my
hard couch, listening to the rustle of every leaf, and occasionally
thinking that I heard the sound of her wheels upon the distant road. Once
at midnight, just as I was about to fall into unconsciousness, I suddenly
started up, for I was convinced that I heard the sound of wheels. I
listened most anxiously, and the sound of wheels striking against stones
was certainly plain enough. "She comes at last," thought I, and for a
few moments I felt as if a mountain had been removed from my
breast;--"here she comes at last, now, how shall I receive her? Oh,"
thought I, "I will receive her rather coolly, just as if I was not
particularly anxious about her--that's the way to manage these women."
The next moment the sound became very loud, rather too loud, I thought,
to proceed from her wheels, and then by degrees became fainter. Rushing
out of my tent, I hurried up the path to the top of the dingle, where I
heard the sound distinctly enough, but it was going from me, and
evidently proceeded from something much larger than the cart of Isopel. I
could, moreover, hear the stamping of a horse's hoofs at a lumbering
trot. Those only whose hopes have been wrought up to a high pitch, and
then suddenly dashed down, can imagine what I felt at that moment; and
yet when I returned to my lonely tent, and lay down on my hard pallet,
the voice of conscience told me that the misery I was then undergoing, I
had fully merited, from the unkind manner in which I had intended to
receive her, when for a brief moment I supposed that she had returned.

It was on the morning after this affair, and the fourth, if I forget not,
from the time of Isopel's departure, that, as I was seated on my stone at
the b