be gone? A man covering
these distances must have one good meal a day or he falls ill. I could
beg, but there was the risk of being arrested, and that means an
indefinite waste of time, perhaps several days; and time, that had
defeated me at the Gries, threatened me here again. I had nothing to
sell or to pawn, and I had no friends. The Consul I would not attempt;
I knew too much of such things as Consuls when poor and dirty men try
them. Besides which, there was no Consul I pondered.

I went into the cool of the cathedral to sit in its fine darkness and
think better. I sat before a shrine where candles were burning, put up
for their private intentions by the faithful. Of many, two had nearly
burnt out. I watched them in their slow race for extinction when a
thought took me.

'I will,' said I to myself, 'use these candles for an ordeal or
heavenly judgement. The left hand one shall be for attempting the road
at the risk of illness or very dangerous failure; the right hand one
shall stand for my going by rail till I come to that point on the
railway where one franc eighty will take me, and thence walking into
Milan:--and heaven defend the right.'

They were a long time going out, and they fell evenly. At last the
right hand one shot up the long flame that precedes the death of
candles; the contest took on interest, and even excitement, when, just
as I thought the left hand certain of winning, it went out without
guess or warning, like a second-rate person leaving this world for
another. The right hand candle waved its flame still higher, as though
in triumph, outlived its colleague just the moment to enjoy glory, and
then in its turn went fluttering down the dark way from which they say
there is no return.

None may protest against the voice of the Gods. I went straight to the
nearest railway station (for there are two), and putting down one
franc eighty, asked in French for a ticket to whatever station that
sum would reach down the line. The ticket came out marked Milan, and I
admitted the miracle and confessed the finger of Providence. There was
no change, and as I got into the train I had become that rarest and
ultimate kind of traveller, the man without any money whatsoever--
without passport, without letters, without food or wine; it would be
interesting to see what would follow if the train broke down.

I had marched 378 miles and some three furlongs, or thereabouts.

Thus did I break--but by a direct comman