She knew of none such, and left me, on someone's
calling to her from above, in the midst of my embarrassment. After a
moment's pause, I returned, discomfited and perplexed, to the street.

I proceeded, in a considerable degree, at random. At length I reached a
spacious building in Fourth Street, which the signpost showed me to be
an inn. I knocked loudly and often at the door. At length a female
opened the window of the second story, and, in a tone of peevishness,
demanded what I wanted. I told her that I wanted lodging.

"Go hunt for it somewhere else," said she; "you'll find none here." I
began to expostulate; but she shut the window with quickness, and left
me to my own reflections.

I began now to feel some regret at the journey I had taken. Never, in
the depth of caverns or forests, was I equally conscious of loneliness.
I was surrounded by the habitations of men; but I was destitute of
associate or friend. I had money, but a horse-shelter, or a morsel of
food, could not be purchased. I came for the purpose of relieving
others, but stood in the utmost need myself. Even in health my condition
was helpless and forlorn; but what would become of me should this fatal
malady be contracted? To hope that an asylum would be afforded to a sick
man, which was denied to one in health, was unreasonable.

The first impulse which flowed from these reflections was to hasten back
to _Malverton_; which, with sufficient diligence, I might hope to regain
before the morning light. I could not, methought, return upon my steps
with too much speed. I was prompted to run, as if the pest was rushing
upon me and could be eluded only by the most precipitate flight.

This impulse was quickly counteracted by new ideas. I thought with
indignation and shame on the imbecility of my proceeding. I called up
the images of Susan Hadwin, and of Wallace. I reviewed the motives which
had led me to the undertaking of this journey. Time had, by no means,
diminished their force. I had, indeed, nearly arrived at the
accomplishment of what I had intended. A few steps would carry me to
Thetford's habitation. This might be the critical moment when succour
was most needed and would be most efficacious.

I had previously concluded to defer going thither till the ensuing
morning; but why should I allow myself a moment's delay? I might at
least gain an external view of the house, and circumstances might arise
which would absolve me from the obligation of re