It rained still, and blew; but with more clemency, I thought, than it had poured and raged all day.

Twilight was falling, and I deemed its influence pitiful; from the lattice I saw coming night-clouds trailing low like banners drooping.

It seemed to me that at this hour there was affection and sorrow in Heaven above for all pain suffered on earth beneath; the weight of my dreadful dream became alleviated--that insufferable thought of being no more loved--no more owned, half-yielded to hope of the contrary--I was sure this hope would shine clearer if I got out from under this house-roof, which was crushing as the slab of a tomb, and went outside the city to a certain quiet hill, a long way distant in the fields.

Covered with a cloak (I could not be delirious, for I had sense and recollection to put on warm clothing), forth I set.

The bells of a church arrested me in passing; they seemed to call me in to the _salut_, and I went in.