Then came a turnpike, then fields again with trees and haystacks, then a hill; and on top of that the traveller might stop, and looking back at old St. Paul's looming through the smoke, might feel at last that he was clear of London.
Near such a spot as this, and in a pleasant field, the old man and his little guide sat down to rest. Nell had brought in her basket some slices of bread and meat, and here they made their simple breakfast.
The freshness of the day, the singing of the birds, the beauty of the waving grass, the deep-green leaves, the wild flowers, and the scents and sounds that floated in the air, filled them with gladness. The child had said her simple prayers once that morning, but now in her deep thankfulness they rose to her lips again. The old man took off his hat; he had no memory for the words, but he said Amen, for he knew that they were very good.
There had been an old copy of the "Pilgrim's Progress," with pictures, upon a shelf at home, over which Nell had often pored in wonder. As she looked back upon the place they had left, one part of it came strongly into her mind.
"Dear grandfather," she said, "I feel as if we were both pilgrims like Christian, and had laid down on this grass all the cares and troubles we brought with us, never to take them up again."
"No, never to return, never to return," replied the old man, waving his hands towards the city. "Thou and I are free of it now, Nell. They shall never lure us back."
"Are you tired?" said the child. "Are you sure you don't feel ill from this long walk?"
"I shall never feel ill again, now that we are once away," was his reply. "Let us be stirring, Nell. We must be farther away—a long, long way farther. We are too near to stop and be at rest. Come."
There was a pool of clear water in the field, in which the child now laved her hands and face, and cooled her feet. She would have the old man refresh himself in this way too; and making him sit down upon the grass, cast the water on him with her hands, and dried it with her dress.
"I can do nothing for myself, my darling," said the old man. "I don't know how it is; I could once, but the time's gone. Don't leave me, Nell; say that thou'lt not leave me. I loved thee all the while, indeed I did. If I lose thee too, my dear, I must die!"