CHAPTER LXII.
The Hostelry--Life Uncertain--Open Countenance--The Grand Point--Thank You, Master--A Hard Mother--Poor Dear!--Considerable Odds--The Better Country--English Fashion--Landlord-looking Person.
And in the old city I remained two days, passing my time as I best could--inspecting the curiosities of the place, eating and drinking when I felt so disposed, which I frequently did, the digestive organs having assumed a tone to which for many months they had been strangers--enjoying at night balmy sleep in a large bed in a dusky room, at the end of a corridor, in a certain hostelry in which I had taken up my quarters--receiving from the people of the hostelry such civility and condescension as people who travel on foot with bundle and stick, but who nevertheless are perceived to be not altogether destitute of coin, are in the habit of receiving.

On the third day, on a fine sunny afternoon, I departed from the city of the spire.
As I was passing through one of the suburbs, I saw, all on a sudden, a respectable-looking female fall down in a fit; several persons hastened to her assistance.

"She is dead," said one.

"No, she is not," said another.

"I am afraid she is," said a third.