The effect of this random chatter of my good-natured friend upon
my mind may well be imagined. It was fortunate that he was quite
too much occupied in what he was saying to note my annoyance. In
vain, anxious to be let off, was I restrained in utterance--cold,
unpliable. The good fellow took for granted that it was an act
of friendship to try to amuse; and thus, yearning with a nameless
discontent and apprehension to get home I was marched to and fro
along the river-bank, from one scene to another--he, meanwhile,
utterly heedless of time, and as actively bent on perpetual motion
as if his sinews were of steel and his flesh iron. Meanwhile, the
guitar ceased, and the song in the cottage of Miss Davison; the
lights went out in that and all the other dwellings in sight; the
moon waned; and it was not till the clock from a distant steeple
tolled out the hour of eleven with startling solemnity, that Kingsley
exclaimed:-"Well, mon ami, we have had a ramble, and I trust I have somewhat
dissipated your gloomy fit. And now to bed--what say you?--with
what appetite we may!"
With what appetite, indeed! We separated. I rushed homeward, the
moment he was out of sight--once more stood before my own dwelling.
There the lights remained unextinguished and William Edgerton was
still a tenant of my parlor!