Drivers and Front Outside Passengers — Fatigue of Body and Mind — Unexpected Greeting — My Inn — The Governor — Engagement
I continued my journey, passing through one or two villages. The day was exceedingly hot, and the roads dusty. In order to cause my horse as little fatigue as possible, and not to chafe his back, I led him by the bridle, my doing which brought upon me a shower of remarks, jests, and would-be witticisms from the drivers and front outside passengers of sundry stage-coaches, which passed me in one direction or the other. In this way I proceeded till considerably past noon, when I felt myself very fatigued, and my horse appeared no less so; and it is probable that the lazy and listless manner in which we were moving on tired us both much more effectually than hurrying along at a swift trot would have done, for I have observed that when the energies of the body are not exerted a languor frequently comes over it. At length, arriving at a very large building with an archway, near the entrance of a town, 138 I sat down on what appeared to be a stepping-block, and presently experienced a great depression of spirits. I began to ask myself whither I was going, and what I should do with myself and the horse which I held by the bridle? It appeared to me that I was alone in the world with the poor animal, who looked for support to me, who knew not how to support myself. Then the image of Isopel Berners came into my mind, and when I bethought me how I had lost her for ever, and how happy I might have been with her in the New World had she not deserted me, I became yet more miserable.
As I sat in this state of mind, I suddenly felt some one clap me on the shoulder, and heard a voice say: ‘Ha! comrade of the dingle, what chance has brought you into these parts?’ I turned round, and beheld a man in the dress of a postillion, whom I instantly recognised as he to whom I had rendered assistance on the night of the storm.
‘Ah!’ said I, ‘is it you? I am glad to see you, for I was feeling very lonely and melancholy.’
‘Lonely and melancholy,’ he replied, ‘how is that? how can anyone be lonely and melancholy with such a noble horse as that you hold by the bridle?’
‘The horse,’ said I, ‘is one cause of my melancholy, for I know not in the world what to do with it.’
‘Is it your own?’
‘Yes,’ said I, ‘I may call it my own, though I borrowed the money to purchase it.’
‘Well, why don’t you sell it?’
‘It is not always easy to find a purchaser for a horse like this,’ said I; ‘can you recommend me one?’
‘I? Why, no, not exactly: but you’ll find a purchaser shortly — pooh! If you have no other cause for disquiet than that horse, cheer up, man; don’t be cast down. Have you nothing else on your mind? By-the-by, what’s become of the young woman you were keeping company with in that queer lodging-place of yours?’
‘She has left me,’ said I.
‘You quarrelled, I suppose?’
‘No,’ said I, ‘we did not exactly quarrel, but we are parted.’
‘Well,’ replied he, ‘but you will soon come together again.’
‘No,’ said I; ‘we are parted for ever.’
‘For ever! Pooh! you little know how people sometimes come together again who think they are parted for ever. Here’s something on that point relating to myself. You remember when I told you my story in that dingle of yours, that I mentioned a young woman, my fellow-servant when I lived with the English family in Mumbo Jumbo’s town, and how she and I, when our foolish governors were thinking of changing their religion, agreed to stand by each other, and be true to old Church of England, and to give our governors warning, provided they tried to make us renegades. Well, she and I parted soon after that, and never thought to meet again, yet we met the other day in the fields, for she lately came to live with a great family not far from here, and we have since agreed to marry, to take a little farm, for we have both a trifle of money, and live together till “death us do part.” So much for parting for ever! But what do I mean by keeping you broiling in the sun with your............