shion--and poor Byron be
once more reinstated on his throne, though his rival will always stand a
good chance of being worshipped by those whose ruined nerves are
insensible to the narcotic powers of opium and morphine.

CHAPTER XXIII

DRIVERS AND FRONT OUTSIDE PASSENGERS--FATIGUE OF BODY AND
MIND--UNEXPECTED GREETING--MY INN--THE GOVERNOR--ENGAGEMENT

I continued my journey, passing through one or two villages. The day was
exceedingly hot, and the roads dusty. In order to cause my horse as
little fatigue as possible, and not to chafe his back, I led him by the
bridle, my doing which brought upon me a shower of remarks, jests, and
would-be witticisms from the drivers and front outside passengers of
sundry stage-coaches, which passed me in one direction or the other. In
this way I proceeded till considerably past noon, when I felt myself very
fatigued, and my horse appeared no less so; and it is probable that the
lazy and listless manner in which we were moving on tired us both much
more effectually than hurrying along at a swift trot would have done, for
I have observed that when the energies of the body are not exerted a
languor frequently comes over it. At length, arriving at a very large
building with an archway, near the entrance of a town, {141} I sat down
on what appeared to be a stepping-block, and presently experienced a
great depression of spirits. I began to ask myself whither I was going,
and what I should do with myself and the horse which I held by the
bridle? It appeared to me that I was alone in the world with the poor
animal, who looked for support to me, who knew not how to support myself.
Then the image of Isopel Berners came into my mind, and when I bethought
me how I had lost her for ever, and how happy I might have been with her
in the New World had she not deserted me, I became yet more miserable.

As I sat in this state of mind, I suddenly felt some one clap me on the
shoulder, and heard a voice say: 'Ha! comrade of the dingle, what chance
has brought you into these parts?' I turned round, and beheld a man in
the dress of a postillion, whom I instantly recognised as he to whom I
had rendered assistance on the night of the storm.

'Ah!' said I, 'is it you? I am glad to see you, for I was feeling very
lonely and melancholy.'

'Lonely and melancholy,' he replied, 'how is that? how can anyone be
lonely and melancholy with such a noble horse as that you hold by the
bridle?'

'Th