ntry was my sole asylum. Here,
in exchange for my labour, I could at least purchase food, safety, and
repose. But, if my choice pointed to the country, there was no reason
for a moment's delay. It would be prudent to regain the fields, and be
far from this detested city before the rising of the sun.

Meanwhile I was chilled and chafed by the clothes that I wore. To change
them for others was absolutely necessary to my ease. The clothes which I
wore were not my own, and were extremely unsuitable to my new condition.
My rustic and homely garb was deposited in my chamber at Welbeck's.
These thoughts suggested the design of returning thither. I considered
that, probably, the servants had not been alarmed. That the door was
unfastened, and the house was accessible. It would be easy to enter and
retire without notice; and this, not without some waverings and
misgivings, I presently determined to do.

Having deposited my letter at the office, I proceeded to my late abode.
I approached, and lifted the latch with caution. There were no
appearances of any one having been disturbed. I procured a light in the
kitchen, and hied softly and with dubious footsteps to my chamber. There
I disrobed, and resumed my check shirt, and trowsers, and fustian coat.
This change being accomplished, nothing remained but that I should
strike into the country with the utmost expedition.

In a momentary review which I took of the past, the design for which
Welbeck professed to have originally detained me in his service occurred
to my mind. I knew the danger of reasoning loosely on the subject of
property. To any trinket or piece of furniture in this house I did not
allow myself to question the right of Mrs. Wentworth; a right accruing
to her in consequence of Welbeck's failure in the payment of his rent;
but there was one thing which I felt an irresistible desire, and no
scruples which should forbid me, to possess, and that was, the
manuscript to which Welbeck had alluded, as having been written by the
deceased Lodi.

I was well instructed in Latin, and knew the Tuscan language to be
nearly akin to it. I despaired not of being at some time able to
cultivate this language, and believed that the possession of this
manuscript might essentially contribute to this end, as well as to many
others equally beneficial. It was easy to conjecture that the volume was
to be found among his printed books, and it was scarcely less easy to
ascertain the truth of t