Off to the right, beyond a low hedge covered with wall-flowers, was a field of springing corn (wheat we call it in our country), and lording it over this green domain, with its arms outstretched, was a ragged scarecrow. I think my next move was something that proves me far from imbecile. Leaping the hedge, I tore off my bright red coat and white breeches (the cloak, I had forgotten to say, I had left at the hedge early in the morning), and then, with mighty little on, I crawled, Indian fashion, towards the silent guardian of the fields.
Oh, they were very ragged indeed were his majesty's habiliments, but there were enough of them to cover me, even if I did show bare at the knees and elbows, and hurriedly I hung them on, and taking the flapping hat from off the straw-stuffed head, I was the scarecrow come to life! I had hidden the uniform under some handfuls of leaves and grass; and now to get out of the park and reach the road, where, by my appearance, I rightfully belonged.
The wall on the inside was so high and so well built that I could not reach the top, but as I went along I came to a little gate that unlocked by thrusting back a bolt. I opened it, and found myself in the kitchen-garden of a neat white cottage. Disdaining to make reply to the hail of a buxom young woman who thrust her head out of the window, and who inquired my business in a peremptory tone, I hobbled out into the road.
I did not stop at the inn this time, but slid past it on the opposite side, and five minutes' walk brought me nearer to the heart of the town. Passing a number of people, who gave me a wide berth, and keeping straight ahead, I came to a square, or better, the meeting-place of four thoroughfares crossing at right angles.
Not far away rose the great square tower that I had noticed early in the morning. It was so high and so massive that I walked toward it to obtain a better view, and stopped in astonishment before one of the greatest cathedrals in England.
There was a service of some kind going on, and the sound of a great organ wafted out on the air. I stood there listening for some moments, leaning against the iron railing. As the door was open, I was tempted to go in and pass the gates, but here I halted in fear. A slight tall man, with his white hair trimmed in a bygone fashion, and a black coat buttoned up to his white stock, was walking up a side path; he raised his eyes from the ground, and bending forward, stood there in an expectant attitude looking at me. Whatever he took me for I do not know.
"Repent, son, and return," he said, in a soothing tone. I had feared that he was going to upbraid me for my presence, but his next movement deprived me of that idea entirely. "Here, take this," he said; "and God bless you and direct you."
As he spoke he extended his hand, with a piece of silver in it, toward me. A sense of pride in that, so far in my life, I had asked alms of no one almost tempted me to refuse it, but fearing that he might put me to questions, I took it, mumbled some thanks, and hurried out into the sunshine.
I am sure that if he had been an American I should never have escaped without telling a story of some sort, but the English are of a less curious temper than we are, and if they interfere in other people's business on the outside world, they have a talent for minding their own at home, and to this I testify readily.
My clothes were so disreputable that I determined to spend part of the shilling in procuring the means of mending them. So I entered a little shop down the street, and purchased thread and needles. With these in my pocket, I set out immediately looking for a place to hide whilst at work.