第65部分(第6/7 页)

g；　the　coachman　has　set　me　down　at　a　place　called　Whitcross；　he　could　take　me　no　farther　for　the　sum　I　had　given；　and　I　was　not　possessed　of　another　shilling　in　the　world。　The　coach　is　a　mile　off　by　this　time；　I　am　alone。　At　this　moment　I　discover　that　I　forgot　to　take　my　parcel　out　of　the　pocket　of　the　coach；　where　I　had　placed　it　for　safety；　there　it　remains；　there　it　must　remain；　and　now；　I　am　absolutely　destitute。

Whitcross　is　no　town；　nor　even　a　hamlet；　it　is　but　a　stone　pillar　set　up　where　four　roads　meet：　whitewashed；　I　suppose；　to　be　more　obvious　at　a　distance　and　in　darkness。　Four　arms　spring　from　its　summit：　the　nearest　town　to　which　these　point　is；　according　to　the　inscription；　distant　ten　miles；　the　farthest；　above　twenty。　From　the　well…known　names　of　these　towns　I　learn　in　what　county　I　have　lighted；　a　north…midland　shire；　dusk　with　moorland；　ridged　with　mountain：　this　I　see。　There　are　great　moors　behind　and　on　each　hand　of　me；　there　are　waves　of　mountains　far　beyond　that　deep　valley　at　my　feet。　The　population　here　must　be　thin；　and　I　see　no　passengers　on　these　roads：　they　stretch　out　east；　west；　north；　and　south—white；　broad；　lonely；　they　are　all　cut　in　the　moor；　and　the　heather　grows　deep　and　wild　to　their　very　verge。　Yet　a　chance　traveller　might　pass　by；　and　I　wish　no　eye　to　see　me　now：　strangers　would　wonder　what　I　am　doing；　lingering　here　at　the　sign…post；　evidently　objectless　and　lost。　I　might　be　questioned：　I　could　give　no　answer　but　what　would　sound　incredible　and　excite　suspicion。　Not　a　tie　holds　me　to　human　society　at　this　moment—not　a　charm　or　hope　calls　me　where　my　fellow…creatures　are—none　that　saw　me　would　have　a　kind　thought　or　a　good　wish　for　me。　I　have　no　relative　but　the　universal　mother；　Nature：　I　will　seek　her　breast　and　ask　repos