The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 167: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

144 REYNOLDS’ WORKS shako. This he did, all the while beseeching and imploring in the most piteous terms that I would spare his life. I taunted him with his villainy toward me, telling him that I would not degrade myself by wreaking my vengeance on so miserable a wretch. Having assumed his hat and coat, — the latter a frock buttoning up to the neck and fitting me perfectly, —I told him he might inform the postilion that the remaining horse would be found some short distance farther along the road, and leaping upon its back, I made the animal gallop away at the utmost speed of which it was capable. Having proceeded thus for about three miles, I came in sight of a little hamlet, and, dismounting, tied the horse to a tree. I then continued my way on foot, and on reaching the hamlet, obtained refreshment. The cottagers at whose dwelling I stopped were naturally surprised to behold a female in male attire, but as I gave them a piece of silver as a remuneration for the sorry fare which was served up to me, they asked no questions. I did not tarry many minutes in that hamlet, but pursuing my way on foot, speedily entered upon the vast amphitheatrical chain of the Pyrenees. ‘The ascent of the Pyrenees from the Spanish side is steep, difficult, and dangerous. Sometimes, when having mounted a terrace or ledge of rock, perhaps a mile in length, the traveller finds his way suddenly barred by the towering wall of a still higher eminence, up which he may perhaps climb if he be of desperate boldness and of experience in the mode of scaling these rocky ramparts, but I dared not make such attempts. I therefore frequently had to turn back and take another course, sometimes, when advancing too quickly, nearly falling over the edge of a gulf on which I suddenly stopped short, at other times terrified by a rush amongst the stunted trees or brushwood, with the idea that it was a wolf preparing to spring at me. Nevertheless, I pressed onward with a courage and an ardour that sur- prised myself, and with an exhilaration of spirits that was sustained by the excitement of my travel. ‘“‘ During all that day, I did not succeed in advancing more than eight miles into the heart of the Pyrenees, in conse- quence of the many times I had to turn and retrace my steps, and of the circuitous paths that I had to pursue. As evening drew near, I felt excessively weary, and was CORMCEOIOO<S.COL