I was now left alone with the man who first called to me in the morning.

In a sober manner, he made this proposal to me: "John, I have a brother living in Risterstown, four miles off, who keeps a tavern; I think you had better go and live with him, till we see what will turn up.

He wants an ostler." I at once assented to this.

"Well," said he, "take something to eat, and I will go with you." Although I had so completely frustrated their designs for the moment, I knew that it would by no means answer for me to go into that town, where there were prisons, handbills, newspapers, and travellers.

My intention was, to start with him, but not to enter the town alive.
I sat down to eat; it was Wednesday, four o'clock, and this was the first regular meal I had since Sunday morning.