ded
hill." "No," said I, "I do not mean to go to church." "May I ask thee
wherefore?" said Peter. "Because," said I, "I prefer remaining beneath
the shade of these trees, listening to the sound of the leaves, and
tinkling of the waters."

"Then thou intendest to remain here?" said Peter, looking fixedly at me.
"If I do not intrude," said I; "but if I do, I will wander away; I wish
to be beholden to nobody--perhaps you wish me to go?" "On the contrary,"
said Peter, "I wish you to stay. I begin to see something in thee which
has much interest for me; but we must now bid thee farewell for the rest
of the day, the time is drawing nigh for us to repair to the place of
preaching; before we leave thee alone, however, I should wish to ask thee
a question--Didst thou seek thy own destruction yesterday, and didst thou
wilfully take that poison?" "No," said I; "had I known there had been
poison in the cake, I certainly should not have taken it." "And who gave
it thee?" said Peter. "An enemy of mine," I replied. "Who is thy
enemy?" "An Egyptian sorceress and poisonmonger." "Thy enemy is a
female. I fear thou hadst given her cause to hate thee--of what did she
complain?" "That I had stolen the tongue out of her head." "I do not
understand thee--is she young?" "About sixty-five."

Here Winifred interposed. "Thou didst call her just now by hard names,
young man," said she; "I trust thou dost bear no malice against her."
"No," said I, "I bear no malice against her." "Thou art not wishing to
deliver her into the hand of what is called justice?" "By no means,"
said I; "I have lived long enough upon the roads not to cry out for the
constable when my finger is broken. I consider this poisoning as an
accident of the roads; one of those to which those who travel are
occasionally subject." "In short, thou forgivest thine adversary?"
"Both now and for ever," said I. "Truly," said Winifred, "the spirit
which the young man displayeth pleases me much: I should be loth that he
left us yet. I have no doubt that, with the blessing of God, and a
little of thy exhortation, he will turn out a true Christian before he
leaveth us." "My exhortation!" said Peter, and a dark shade passed over
his countenance; "thou forgettest what I am--I--I--but I am forgetting
myself; the Lord's will be done; and now put away the things, for I
perceive that our friends are coming to attend us to the place of
meeting."

Again the family which I ha