'Twas no more than I look'd for; yet the sight of it and the king's
red seal, quicken'd my step as I set off again. And I cared not a
straw for Dr. Kettle's wrath on the morrow.

Having no desire to fall in with any of the royal outposts that lay
around Abingdon, I fetched well away to the west, meaning to shape
my course for Faringdon, and so into the great Bath road. 'Tis not
my purpose to describe at any length my itinerary, but rather to
reserve my pen for those more moving events that overtook me later.
Only in the uncertain light I must have taken a wrong turn to the
left (I think near Besselsleigh) that led me round to the south: for,
coming about daybreak to a considerable town, I found it to be, not
Faringdon, but Wantage. There was no help for it, so I set about
enquiring for a bed. The town was full, and already astir with
preparations for cattle-fair; and neither at the "Bear" nor the
"Three Nuns" was there a bed to be had. But at length at the "Boot"
tavern--a small house, I found one just vacated by a couple of
drovers, and having cozen'd the chambermaid to allow me a clean pair
of sheets, went upstairs very drowsily, and in five minutes was
sleeping sound.

I awoke amid a clatter of voices, and beheld the room full of
womankind.

"He's waking," said one.

"Tis a pity, too, to be afflicted thus--and he such a pretty young
man!"