He felt little beyond hunger, and that vague urging up Daurside, with occasional shoots of pleasure from kindness, mostly of woman and dog.

He was less shy of the country people by this time, but he did not care to seek them.

He thought them not nearly so friendly and good as the town-people, forgetting that these knew him and those did not.

To Gibbie an introduction was the last thing necessary for any one who wore a face, and he could not understand why they looked at him so.
Whatever is capable of aspiring, must be troubled that it may wake and aspire--then troubled still, that it may hold fast, be itself, and aspire still.
One evening his path vanished between twilight and moonrise, and just as it became dark he found himself at a rough gate, through which he saw a field.

There was a pretty tall hedge on each side of the gate, and he was now a sufficiently experienced traveller to conclude that he was not far from some human abode.