I had no inclination to awaken him. This respite was too sweet to be
needlessly abridged. I determined to await the operation of nature, and
to prolong, by silence and by keeping interruption at a distance, this
salutary period of forgetfulness. This interval permitted new ideas to
succeed in my mind.

Clithero believed his solitude to be unapproachable. What new expedients
to escape inquiry and intrusion might not my presence suggest! Might he
not vanish, as he had done on the former day, and afford me no time to
assail his constancy and tempt his hunger? If, however, I withdrew
during his sleep, he would awake without disturbance, and be
unconscious, for a time, that his secrecy had been violated. He would
quickly perceive the victuals, and would need no foreign inducements to
eat. A provision so unexpected and extraordinary might suggest new
thoughts, and be construed into a kind of heavenly condemnation of his
purpose. He would not readily suspect the motives or person of his
visitant, would take no precaution against the repetition of my visit,
and, at the same time, our interview would not be attended with so much
surprise. The more I revolved these reflections, the greater force they
acquired. At length, I determined to withdraw, and, leaving the food
where it could scarcely fail of attracting his notice, I returned by the
way that I had come. I had scarcely reached home, when a messenger from
Inglefield arrived, requesting me to spend the succeeding night at his
house, as some engagement had occurred to draw him to the city.

I readily complied with this request. It was not necessary, however, to
be early in my visit. I deferred going till the evening was far
advanced. My way led under the branches of the elm which recent events
had rendered so memorable. Hence my reflections reverted to the
circumstances which had lately occurred in connection with this tree.