uthful mind, I forgot the anguish which had
lately been my continual guest, and occupied myself entirely in dreams
of future novelty and felicity. I scarcely ever, in the whole course of
my existence, spent a day of more various or exquisite gratification. It
furnished a strong, and perhaps not an unsalutary contrast, to the
terrors which had preceded, and the dreadful scenes that awaited me.

In the evening I arrived at the place of my destination, and enquired
for the inn at which the coach was accustomed to call. A circumstance
however had previously excited my attention, and reproduced in me a
state of alarm.

Though it was already dark before I reached the town, my observation
had been attracted by a man, who passed me on horseback in the opposite
direction, about half a mile on the other side of the town. There was an
inquisitiveness in his gesture that I did not like; and, as far as I
could discern his figure, I pronounced him an ill-looking man. He had
not passed me more than two minutes before I heard the sound of a horse
advancing slowly behind me. These circumstances impressed some degree of
uneasy sensation upon my mind. I first mended my pace; and, this not
appearing to answer the purpose, I afterwards loitered, that the
horseman might pass me. He did so; and, as I glanced at him, I thought I
saw that it was the same man. He now put his horse into a trot, and
entered the town. I followed; and it was not long before I perceived him
at the door of an alehouse, drinking a mug of beer. This however the
darkness prevented me from discovering, till I was in a manner upon him.
I pushed forward, and saw him no more, till, as I entered the yard of
the inn where I intended to sleep, the same man suddenly rode up to me,
and asked if my name were Williams.

This adventure, _while it had been passing_, expelled the gaiety of my
mind, and filled me with anxiety. The apprehension however that I felt,
appeared to me groundless: if I were pursued, I took it for granted it
would be by some of Mr. Falkland's people, and not by a stranger. The
darkness took from me some of the simplest expedients of precaution. I
determined at least to proceed to the inn, and make the necessary
enquiries.

I no sooner heard the sound of the horse as I entered the yard, and the
question proposed to me by the rider, than the dreadful certainty of
what I feared instantly took possession of my mind. Every incident
connected with my late abhorr