"I remember with what bitterness I changed my last penny for a poor roll at Rippon, and eat it by the side of a ditch, near the princely castle of one who had gained a coronet by his political apostacy. I had still many miles before me, but trusting to Providence, continued my journey. Travelling by night and lying perdu by day, I found myself in a waste moorland near Cawood, in the West Riding of Yorkshire. The moon was rising; but I found that hunger, fatigue, and humiliation, had done their worst upon me, and that I could achieve no more. Despair entered my heart, and I threw myself down in that bleak spot to die, cursing the rebellion of our countrymen, the inhospitality of the English, and my own bad fortune. From a stupor that for some time weighed down every sense, I was roused by the trampling of a horse, and a deep bass voice crying,
"'Hollo Gaffer, art dead, or dead drunk only! Get up with a murrain, for my nag will neither stand or pass; steady—so-so—gently, zounds! gently!"
"I started, and instinctively grasped my staff, on perceiving a tall stout fellow muffled in a dark rocquelaure, with his face masked, and a hat flapped over his eyes. He rode a strong, fleet, and active horse, and carried long holsters.
"'Crush me, if it isn't a Scotch Jockey—a pedlar, I warrant!' said he, drawing a pistol from his saddlebow; 'they never travel without the ready; so hand over the bright Jacobuses or William's guilders, or else I may pop this bullet through your brain.'
"I was desperate, and replied, 'Fire! and rid me of an existence that is worthless. I have nothing to give but my life, and it is no longer of value to me.'
"'A gentleman, by this light!' replied the other, withdrawing his pistol, 'some cavalier in disguise, I warrant.'
"'You have guessed rightly; so now lead me to the nearest justice of the peace for a reward, if you will.'
"'For what do you take me?' said he, angrily. 'God bless King James, and may the great devil choak his son-in-law! Ah, had the good Dundee (a Scot though he was) survived that brave day's work, in your infernal pass of what d'ye call it? 'twould have been another case with us both today, perhaps. So thou art a Scottish cavalier?'
"'Once I was so—to-night I am a beggar, perishing by want, and without a roof to shelter me.'
"'Hast thou no money, lad?'