Bressant

As he left the dirty waiting-room, and the invisible man with the

lantern, the clock over the door marked five minutes past eight.

Although it was more than twelve hours since he had eaten food, he was

not (owing to having passed so much of the day in sleep) so hungry as he

might have been. Nevertheless, appreciating what a task was before him,

he would have given any thing that he could call his own for a good meal

before starting. But he had handed over his last cent to the conductor,

and now, time pressed him.

He was young and strong, and no one was more tireless in walking than

he; his joints were firm as iron, yet supple and springy; his muscles

tough and lean, of immense enduring power; his lungs were deep, and he

breathed easily through his nostrils; his gait was long and elastic;

but, had he been twice the man he was, the journey upon which he was now

started would have been no child's play; being what he was, it was

nothing less than a hazard of life and death. But Bressant seemed to

think the peril quite worth encountering, in consideration of the chance

of arriving by noon next day at the Parsonage-door; and, for the first

time in his life, he felt grateful to God for the mighty bones and

sinews he had given him. This was the time to use them, if they were

paralyzed forever after!

Having gained the road, he set off with a long, swinging stride, such as

the Indians use, half-way between a walk and a run. As long as he could

keep that up, he would be making six miles an hour--a mile and a half

over the necessary rate; but he well knew he would need all his surplus

before morning broke, and was determined to make it as large as possible

before want of food weakened him. The road, except for the snow, was

favorable for speed, being nearly level and tolerably straight; but the

flakes flying into his eyes made it impossible to be sure of his

footing; and the various ruts and inequalities, common to all American

turn-pikes, and aggravated by the half-frozen snow covering, caused him

several slips and stumbles; trifling matters enough at other times, but

now, when every unnecessary breath and false step would count up

terribly, in the end, quite sufficiently serious.

The vigorous motion, however, sent the blood singing through his body

from head to foot. He felt exhilarated and braced. The driving snow

melted pleasantly on his warm face, and ran down into his

thickly-curling beard, crusted over with frozen breath and sleet. The

cold air came long and refreshingly into his wide-open nostrils. He took

off his fur cap and threw open the breast of his pea-jacket. His

exuberant physical sensations wrought a corresponding effect upon his

previous mental gloom: he found himself looking to the future with

dawnings of a new hope and cheerfulness. At no time in his life had he

felt himself existing through so wide and full a range. He was a man now

in full breadth and height, and, as he looked back upon his previous

life, he could trace, as from a lofty vantage-ground, the plan and

bearing of his former thoughts and deeds.