I should have longed rather to deviate to a wood I saw not far off, which appeared in its thick shade to offer inviting shelter; but I was so sick, so weak, so gnawed with nature's cravings, instinct kept me roaming round abodes where there was a chance of food.

Solitude would be no solitude--rest no rest--while the vulture, hunger, thus sank beak and talons in my side.
I drew near houses; I left them, and came back again, and again I wandered away: always repelled by the consciousness of having no claim to ask--no right to expect interest in my isolated lot.

Meantime, the afternoon advanced, while I thus wandered about like a lost and starving dog.

In crossing a field, I saw the church spire before me: I hastened towards it.

Near the churchyard, and in the middle of a garden, stood a well-built though small house, which I had no doubt was the parsonage.