g to that effect, months before?

It was true there was my lodging to pay for; but up to the present time I
owed nothing, and perhaps, by the time that the people of the house asked
me for money, I should have written a tale or a novel, which would bring
me in money; I had paper, pens, and ink, and, let me not forget them, I
had candles in my closet, all paid for, to light me during my night work.
Enough, I would go doggedly to work upon my tale or novel.

But what was the tale or novel to be about? Was it to be a tale of
fashionable life, about Sir Harry Somebody, and the Countess Something?
But I knew nothing about fashionable people, and cared less; therefore
how should I attempt to describe fashionable life? What should the tale
consist of? The life and adventures of some one. Good--but of whom? Did
not Mr. Petulengro mention one Jemmy Abershaw? Yes. Did he not tell me
that the life and adventures of Jemmy Abershaw would bring in much money
to the writer? Yes, but I knew nothing of that worthy. I heard, it is
true, from Mr. Petulengro, that when alive he committed robberies on the
hill on the side of which Mr. Petulengro had pitched his tents, and that
his ghost still haunted the hill at midnight; but those were scant
materials out of which to write the man's life. It is probable, indeed,
that Mr. Petulengro would be able to supply me with further materials if
I should apply to him, but I was in a hurry, and could not afford the
time which it would be necessary to spend in passing to and from Mr.
Petulengro, and consulting him. Moreover, my pride revolted at the idea
of being beholden to Mr. Petulengro for the materials of the history. No,
I would not write the history of Abershaw. Whose then--Harry Simms?
Alas, the life of Harry Simms had been already much better written by
himself than I could hope to do it; and, after all, Harry Simms, like
Jemmy Abershaw, was merely a robber. Both, though bold and extraordinary
men, were merely highwaymen. I questioned whether I could compose a tale
likely to excite any particular interest out of the exploits of a mere
robber. I want a character for my hero, thought I, something higher than
a mere robber; some one like--like Colonel B---. By the way, why should
I not write the life and adventures of Colonel B--- of Londonderry, in
Ireland?

A truly singular man was this same Colonel B--- {43a} of Londonderry, in
Ireland; a personage of most strange and incredib