At ten I was nodding in my chair, and the 'bed in the loft' received a weary man who never opened his eyes till five o'clock set the little homestead a-going once more.
They refused any payment, and by six I had breakfasted and was striding southwards again.

My notion was to return to the railway line a station or two farther on than the place where I had alighted yesterday and to double back.

I reckoned that that was the safest way, for the police would naturally assume that I was always making farther from London in the direction of some western port.

I thought I had still a good bit of a start, for, as I reasoned, it would take some hours to fix the blame on me, and several more to identify the fellow who got on board the train at St Pancras.
It was the same jolly, clear spring weather, and I simply could not contrive to feel careworn.

Indeed I was in better spirits than I had been for months.