being ashamed of it for the rest of my life; for a man of sense ought to
be able to snap his fingers at four hundred thousand men in the open
country, and if he cannot escape capture he must be a fool.

I went out by St. Thomas's Gate as if I was going for a short walk, and
after walking for a mile on the highway I struck into the fields,
resolving not to leave them as long as I should be within the borders of
the Republic. The shortest way was by Bassano, but I took the longer
path, thinking I might possibly be expected on the more direct road,
while they would never think of my leaving the Venetian territory by way
of Feltre, which is the longest way of getting into the state subject to
the Bishop of Trent.

After walking for three hours I let myself drop to the ground, for I
could not move a step further. I must either take some food or die there,
so I told the monk to leave the cloak with me and go to a farm I saw,
there to buy something to eat. I gave him the money, and he set off,
telling me that he thought I had more courage. The miserable man did not
know what courage was, but he was more robust than myself, and he had,
doubtless, taken in provisions before leaving the prison. Besides he had
had some chocolate; he was thin and wiry, and a monk, and mental
anxieties were unknown to him.

Although the house was not an inn, the good farmer's wife sent me a
sufficient meal which only cost me thirty Venetian sous. After satisfying
my appetite, feeling that sleep was creeping on me, I set out again on
the tramp, well braced up. In four hours' time I stopped at a hamlet, and
found that I was twenty-four miles from Trevisa. I was done up, my ankles
were swollen, and my shoes were in holes. There was only another hour of
day-light before us. Stretching myself out beneath a grove of trees I