coming again over the earth; the dingle was again in deep shade; I roused the fire with the breath of the bellows, and sat looking at the cheerful glow; it was cheering and comforting.  My little horse came now and lay down on the ground beside the forge; I was not quite deserted.  I again ate some of the coarse food, and drank plentifully of the water which I had fetched in the morning.  I then put fresh fuel on the fire, and sat for a long time looking on the blaze; I then went into my tent.

I awoke, on my own calculation, about midnight—­it was pitch dark, and there was much fear upon me.

CHAPTER LXXXV

Free and independent—­I don’t see why—­Oats—­A noise—­Unwelcome visitors—­What’s the matter?—­Good-day to ye—­The tall girl—­Dovrefeld—­Blow on the face—­Civil enough—­What’s this?—­Vulgar woman—­Hands off—­Gasping for breath—­Long Melford—­A pretty manoeuvre—­A long draught—­Signs of animation—­It won’t do—­No malice—­Bad people.

Two mornings after the period to which I have brought the reader in the preceding chapter, I sat by my fire at the bottom of the dingle; I had just breakfasted, and had finished the last morsel of food which I had brought with me to that solitude.

‘What shall I now do?’ said I to myself; ’shall I continue here, or decamp?—­this is a sad lonely spot—­perhaps I had better quit it; but whither shall I go? the wide world is before me, but what can I do therein?  I have been in the world already without much success.  No, I had better remain here; the place is lonely, it is true, but here I am free and independent, and can do what I please; but I can’t remain here without food.  Well, I will find my way to the nearest town, lay in a fresh supply of provision, and come back, turning my back upon the world, which has turned its back upon me.  I don’t see why I should not write a little sometimes; I have pens and an ink-horn, and for a writing-desk I can place the Bible on my knee.  I shouldn’t wonder if I could write a capital satire on the world on the back of that Bible; but, first of all, I must think of supplying myself with food.’

I rose up from the stone on which I was seated, determining to go to the nearest town, with my little horse and cart, and procure what I wanted.  The nearest town, according to my best calculation, lay about five miles distant; I had no doubt, however, that, by using ordinary diligence, I should be back before evening.  In order to go lighter, I determined to leave my tent standing as it was, and all the things which I had purchased of the tinker, just as they were.  ’I need not be apprehensive on their account,’ said I to myself; ’nobody will come here to meddle with them—­the great recommendation of this place is its perfect solitude—­I daresay that I could live here six months without seeing a single human visage.  I will now harness my little gry and be off to the town.’