"Farewell, most lovely, most beloved! The conviction that it is to
ensure the peace of my now only friend on earth, my faithful
Pembroke, that I resign the hope of ever beholding thee again in this
life, will bring me one comfort, at least, in my barren exile!"
Thus communing with his troubled spirit, he walked the whole day on
his way to London. Totally absorbed in meditation, he did not remark
the gaze of curiosity which followed his elegant yet distressed
figure as he passed through the different towns and villages. Musing
on the past, the present, and the future, he neither felt hunger nor
thirst, but, with a fixed eye and abstracted countenance, pursued his
route until night and weariness overtook him near a cross-road, far
away from any house.
Thaddeus looked around and above. The sky was then clear and
glittering with stars; the moon, shining on a branch of the Ouse
which divides Leicestershire from Northamptonshire, lit the green
heath which skirted its banks. He wished not for a more magnificent
canopy; and placing his bag under his head, he laid himself down
beneath a hillock of furze, and slept till morning.
When he awoke from a heavy sleep, which fatigue and fasting had
rendered more oppressive than refreshing, he found that the splendors
of the night were succeeded by a heavy rain, and that he was wet
through. He arose with stiffness in his limbs, pain in his head, and
a dimness over his eyes, with a sense of weakness which almost
disabled him from moving.
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