Page 497 of 1118

See, sir, here it is; a single letter, written by a worthy man, a

monk; a hair of whose beard is worth--but in future learn to

speak with more charity of your neighbours." However, after a

while, these thoughts of the poor traveller gave way to more

urgent considerations of his present difficulties; he no longer

feared pursuit or discovery; but darkness, solitude, and fatigue

combined to distress him and retard his progress. A chill north

wind penetrated his light clothing, his wedding suit; and,

uncomfortable and disheartened, he wandered on, in hopes of

finding some place where he might obtain concealment and repose

for the night.