When the sun rose, it found him at full length on the bare-worn earth at the foot of the tree.

But, shining full upon him, it did not for a long time break his sleep.

When at last it yielded and he came to himself, it was to the consciousness of a body that was a burden, of a tabernacle that ached as if all its cords were strained, yet all its stakes loosened.

With nightmare difficulty he compelled his limbs to raise him, and then was so ill able to govern them, that he staggered like a drunken man, and again and again all but dropped.

Such a night's-rest after such a day's-weariness had all but mastered him.
[Illustration: "He dropped on the bench."] Seeing a pond in the green, he made for it, and having washed his face, felt a little revived.