第66部分(第1/8 頁)

f　a　plover　whistled；　I　imagined　it　a　man。　Finding　my　apprehensions　unfounded；　however；　and　calmed　by　the　deep　silence　that　reigned　as　evening　declined　at　nightfall；　I　took　confidence。　As　yet　I　had　not　thought；　I　had　only　listened；　watched；　dreaded；　now　I　regained　the　faculty　of　reflection。

What　was　I　to　do？　Where　to　go？　Oh；　intolerable　questions；　when　I　could　do　nothing　and　go　nowhere！—when　a　long　way　must　yet　be　measured　by　my　weary；　trembling　limbs　before　I　could　reach　human　habitation—when　cold　charity　must　be　entreated　before　I　could　get　a　lodging：　reluctant　sympathy　importuned；　almost　certain　repulse　incurred；　before　my　tale　could　be　listened　to；　or　one　of　my　wants　relieved！

I　touched　the　heath；　it　was　dry；　and　yet　warm　with　the　beat　of　the　summer　day。　I　looked　at　the　sky；　it　was　pure：　a　kindly　star　twinkled　just　above　the　chasm　ridge。　The　dew　fell；　but　with　propitious　softness；　no　breeze　whispered。　Nature　seemed　to　me　benign　and　good；　I　thought　she　loved　me；　outcast　as　I　was；　and　I；　who　from　man　could　anticipate　only　mistrust；　rejection；　insult；　clung　to　her　with　filial　fondness。　To…night；　at　least；　I　would　be　her　guest；　as　I　was　her　child：　my　mother　would　lodge　me　without　money　and　without　price。　I　had　one　morsel　of　bread　yet：　the　remnant　of　a　roll　I　had　bought　in　a　town　we　passed　through　at　noon　with　a　stray　penny—my　last　coin。　I　saw　ripe　bilberries　gleaming　here　and　there；　like　jet　beads　in　the　heath：　I　gathered　a　handful　and　ate　them　with　the　bread