Oh, Providence! sustain me a little longer! Aid!--direct me!" My glazed eye wandered over the dim and misty landscape.

I saw I had strayed far from the village: it was quite out of sight.

The very cultivation surrounding it had disappeared.

I had, by cross-ways and by- paths, once more drawn near the tract of moorland; and now, only a few fields, almost as wild and unproductive as the heath from which they were scarcely reclaimed, lay between me and the dusky hill.
"Well, I would rather die yonder than in a street or on a frequented road," I reflected.

"And far better that crows and ravens--if any ravens there be in these regions--should pick my flesh from my bones, than that they should be prisoned in a workhouse coffin and moulder in a pauper's grave." To the hill, then, I turned.