He walked on for an hour longer, till he could scarcely drag one leg after another.

At length, he fell down on the road, fully expecting each moment would prove his last.
How long he continued thus he scarcely knew; but just before dawn, he managed to regain his legs, and, crawling up a bank, perceived he was within a quarter of a mile of Tottenham.

A short way off in the fields he descried a sort of shed or cow-house, and thither he contrived to drag his weary limbs.

Opening the door, he found it littered with straw, on which he threw himself, and instantly fell asleep.
When he awoke it was late in the day, and raining heavily.

For some time he could not stir, but felt sick and exhausted.