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Certain small packets were made and given to him. He put them,

one by one, in the breast of his inner coat, counted out the

money for them, and deliberately left the shop. "There is nothing

more to do," said he, glancing upward at the moon, "until

to-morrow. I can't sleep."

It was not a reckless manner, the manner in which he said these

words aloud under the fast-sailing clouds, nor was it more

expressive of negligence than defiance. It was the settled manner

of a tired man, who had wandered and struggled and got lost, but

who at length struck into his road and saw its end.