Happy were I if for a brief space I could become a Cingalese that I might swim out far into that pool, dive down into its deepest part and endeavour to discover any strange things which beneath its surface may lie." Much in this guise rolled my thoughts as I lay stretched on the margin of the lake.
Satiated with musing I at last got up and endeavoured to regain the road.
I found it at last, though not without considerable difficulty.

I passed over moors, black and barren, along a dusty road till I came to a valley; I was now almost choked with dust and thirst, and longed for nothing in the world so much as for water; suddenly I heard its blessed sound, and perceived a rivulet on my left hand.

It was crossed by two bridges, one immensely old and terribly dilapidated, the other old enough, but in better repair--went and drank under the oldest bridge of the two.

The water tasted of the peat of the moors, nevertheless I drank greedily of it, for one must not be over-delicate upon the moors.
Refreshed with my draught I proceeded briskly on my way, and in a little time saw a range of white buildings, diverging from the road on the right hand, the gable of the first abutting upon it.

A kind of farm-yard was before them.