My object, I said, was to escape to France, and I called on him, believing he could assist me, as he must be acquainted with the boatmen around that part of the coast.

He answered it was possible he could, but not then; asked how he could communicate with me; pointed to a shorter route across the mountains than that by which we had descended, and turned in to his dinner, which was just announced.
* * * * * We faced towards the mountain, hungry and exhausted, without being asked to taste food or drink.

It need not be detailed how sore at heart we felt as we recommenced our dreary journey.

It was already evening.
Censer masses of fog had gathered on the hill, and lurid streaks spreading far out on the sea, portended a night of storm and gloom.
However, we had no resource but to regain the house where we had slept two nights before, which we supposed might be distant about seven miles; and by gaining the summit of the hill before dark, we hoped to make our way easily down the other side.

To obtain some food, of whatever kind, was an indispensable preliminary.