dismally. I tried the doors, but they appeared firmly fastened. Far in
the east there was a faint lightening of the sky promising the approach
of dawn, and thus aroused to a knowledge that I must immediately attain
shelter, I clambered through one of the broken windows, and dropped to
the earthen floor within. I could see nothing, not even a hand held
before my eyes, yet carefully felt my way forward through a tangle of
rubbish, wheels, scraps of iron, some casks, a number of plough handles,
and a riffraff of stuff I could not make out. The place had evidently
been used as a repair shop, but must have been closed for months, as I
could feel the grit of dust everywhere, and cobwebs brushed against my
face as I moved about. Finally I felt the outlines of a large box half
filled with paper, and, for want of something better, crept in and
snuggled down, intending to rest there until daylight should reveal my
surroundings.

I was warm enough, now, my clothing practically dry, but thoroughly tired
from the long tramp over the dark road, and exhausted by the excitement
through which I had passed. Even my mind seemed dulled, and it appeared
useless to think or plan. All night long I had been the helpless victim
of circumstances, and I could only trust blindly to luck for the future.
I recall lying there, staring up into the darkness, listening to the
squeal of a rat in some distant corner, the memory of the past few hours
rioting through my brain in bewildered confusion. I had not intended to
sleep, yet drowsiness came, and I lost consciousness.

I know not what aroused me, but it was already daylight, a gleam of sun
through the windows turning the festooned cobwebs into golden tapestry.
One side of the box in which I lay had been broken out, and I could see
the full length of the shop, which appeared littered from end to end with
all manner of implements of husbandry, and woodworking and blacksmith's