by the _wild_ hope, that I should somewhere and at sometime be free.

The night was fine for the season, and passed on with little interruption
for want of strength, until, about three o'clock in the morning, I began
to feel the chilling effects of the dew.

At this moment, gloom and melancholy again spread through my whole soul.
The prospect of utter destitution which threatened me was more than I
could bear, and my heart began to melt. What substance is there in a piece
of dry Indian bread; what nourishment is there in it to warm the nerves of
one already chilled to the heart? Will this afford a sufficient sustenance
after the toil of the night? But while these thoughts were agitating my
mind, the day dawned upon me, in the midst of an open extent of country,
where the only shelter I could find, without risking my travel by
daylight, was a corn shock, but a few hundred yards from the road, and
here I must pass my first day out. The day was an unhappy one; my
hiding-place was extremely precarious. I had to sit in a squatting
position the whole day, without the least chance to rest. But, besides
this, my scanty pittance did not afford me that nourishment which my hard
night's travel needed. Night came again to my relief, and I sallied forth
to pursue my journey. By this time, not a crumb of my crust remained, and
I was hungry and began to feel the desperation of distress.

As I travelled I felt my strength failing and my spirits wavered; my mind
was in a deep and melancholy dream. It was cloudy; I could not see my
star, and had serious misgivings about my course.

In this way the night passed away, and just at the dawn of day I found a
few sour apples, and took my shelter under the arch of a small bridge that
crossed the road. Here I passed the second day in ambush.