see, however, that she was rather tired of England, and wished for a change of scene; she was particularly fond of talking of America, to which country her aspirations chiefly tended.  She had heard much of America, which had excited her imagination; for at that time America was much talked of, on roads and in homesteads—­at least, so said Belle, who had good opportunities of knowing—­and most people allowed that it was a good country for adventurous English.  The people who chiefly spoke against it, as she informed me, were soldiers disbanded upon pensions, the sextons of village churches, and excisemen.  Belle had a craving desire to visit that country, and to wander with cart and little animal amongst its forests; when I would occasionally object that she would be exposed to danger from strange and perverse customers, she said that she had not wandered the roads of England so long and alone, to be afraid of anything which might befall in America; and that she hoped, with God’s favour, to be able to take her own part, and to give to perverse customers as good as they might bring.  She had a dauntless heart, that same Belle.  Such was the staple of Belle’s conversation.  As for mine, I would endeavour to entertain her with strange dreams of adventure, in which I figured in opaque forests, strangling wild beasts, or discovering and plundering the hoards of dragons; and sometimes I would narrate to her other things far more genuine—­how I had tamed savage mares, wrestled with Satan, and had dealings with ferocious publishers.  Belle had a kind heart, and would weep at the accounts I gave her of my early wrestlings with the dark Monarch.  She would sigh, too, as I recounted the many slights and degradations I had received at the hands of ferocious publishers; but she had the curiosity of a woman; and once, when I talked to her of the triumphs which I had achieved over unbroken mares, she lifted up her head and questioned me as to the secret of the virtue which I possessed over the aforesaid animals; whereupon I sternly reprimanded, and forthwith commanded her to repeat the Armenian numerals; and, on her demurring, I made use of words, to escape which she was glad to comply, saying the Armenian numerals from one to a hundred, which numerals, as a punishment for her curiosity, I made her repeat three times, loading her with the bitterest reproaches whenever she committed the slightest error, either in accent or pronunciation, which reproaches she appeared to bear with the greatest patience.  And now I have given a very fair account of the manner in which Isopel Berners and myself passed our time in the dingle.

CHAPTER XCII

The landlord—­Rather too old—­Without a shilling—­Reputation—­A fortnight ago—­Liquids—­The main chance—­Respectability—­Irrational beings—­Parliament cove—­My brewer.