e a deep place, where the water ran dark and still.

Always fond of the pure lymph, I undressed, and plunged into one of these
gulfs, from which I emerged, my whole frame in a glow, and tingling with
delicious sensations. After conveying my clothes and scanty baggage to
the farther side, I dressed, and then with hurried steps bent my course
in the direction of some lofty ground; I at length found myself on a high
road, leading over wide and arid downs; following the road for some miles
without seeing anything remarkable, I supposed at length that I had taken
the wrong path, and wended on slowly and disconsolately for some time,
till, having nearly surmounted a steep hill, I knew at once, from certain
appearances, that I was near the object of my search. Turning to the
right near the brow of the hill, I proceeded along a path which brought
me to a causeway leading over a deep ravine, and connecting the hill with
another which had once formed part of it, for the ravine was evidently
the work of art. I passed over the causeway, and found myself in a kind
of gateway which admitted me into a square space of many acres,
surrounded on all sides by mounds or ramparts of earth. Though I had
never been in such a place before, I knew that I stood within the
precincts of what had been a Roman encampment, and one probably of the
largest size, for many thousand warriors might have found room to perform
their evolutions in that space, in which corn was now growing, the green
ears waving in the morning wind.

After I had gazed about the space for a time, standing in the gateway
formed by the mounds, I clambered up the mound to the left hand, and on
the top of that mound I found myself at a great altitude; beneath, at the
distance of a mile, was a fair old city, situated amongst verdant
meadows, watered with streams, and from the heart of that old city, from
amidst mighty trees, I beheld towering to the sky the finest spire in the
world.

After I had looked from the Roman rampart for a long time, I hurried
away, and, retracing my steps along the causeway, regained the road, and,
passing over the brow of the hill, descended to the city of the spire.

CHAPTER LXII.

The Hostelry--Life Uncertain--Open Countenance--The Grand Point--Thank
You, Master--A Hard Mother--Poor Dear!--Considerable Odds--The Better
Country--English Fashion--Landlord-looking Person.

And in the old city I remained two days, passing my time as I best