to make for the ancient city of Worcester.
Knowing that place to be attainable by way
of Birmingham, he started by the train at
eleven o'clock in the forenoon, and proceeded,
pleasantly and at an even pace, to Leighton.
Here he found, to his great amazement, a
powerful black bar drawn across the road,
hopelessly impeding his progress!

After some consideration, during which, as
he informs us, his " brain reeled " again,
Mr. Lost returned to London. Having
partaken of some refreshment, and endeavoured
to compose his mind with sleep, (from which,
however, he describes himself to have
derived but little comfort, in consequence of
being fitfully pursued by the mystic signs
WARE TU 6), he awoke unrefreshed, and at
five minutes past five in the afternoon once
again set forth in quest of Birmingham. But
now, he was even less fortunate than in the
morning; for, on arriving at Tring, some ten
miles short of his former place of stoppage,
he suddenly found the dreaded black barrier
across the road, and was thus warned by an
insane voice, which seemed to have something
supernatural in its awful sound. " RUGBY TO
LEICESTER, NOTTINGHAM, AND DERBY!"

With the spirit of an Englishman, Mr.
Lost absolutely refused 'to proceed to either
of those towns. If such were the meaning of
the voice, it fell powerless upon him. Why
should he go to Leicester, Nottingham, and
Derby; and what right had Rugby to interfere
with him at Tring? He again returned
to London, and, fearing that his mind was
going, took the precaution of being bled.

When he arose on the following morning,
it was with a haggard countenance, on which
the most indifferent observer might have seen
the traces of a corroding anxiety, and where
the practised eye might have easily detected
what was really wrong within. Even
conscience does not sear like mystery. Where
now were the glowing cheek, the double chin,
the mellow nose, dancing eye ? Fled.
And in their place—

In the silent watches of the night, he
had formed the resolution of endeavouring
to reach the object of his pursuit, by
Gloucester, on the Great Western Railway.
Leaving London once more, this time at half-
an-hour after twelve at noon, he proceeded
to Swindon Junction. Not without difficulty.
For, at Didcot, he again found the black
barrier across the road, and was violently
conducted to seven places, with none of which he
had the least concern—in particular, to one
dreadful spot with the savage appellation of
Aynho. But, escaping from these hostile
towns after undergoing a variety of hardships,
he arrived (as has been said) at Swindon
Junction.

Here, all hope appeared to desert him. It
was evident that the whole country was in a
state of barricade, and that the insurgents
(whoever they were) had taken their
measures but too well. His imprisonment was of
the severest kind. Tortures were applied, to
induce him to go to Bath, to Bristol, Yatton,
Clevedon-Junction, Weston Super Mare-
Junction, Exeter, Torquay, Plymouth,
Falmouth, and the remotest fastnesses of West
Cornwall. No chance of Gloucester was held
out to him for a moment. Remaining firm,
however, and watching his opportunity, he at
length escaped—more by the aid of good
fortune, he considers, than through his own
exertions—and sliding underneath the dreaded
barrier, departed by way of Cheltenham for
Gloucester.

And now indeed he might have thought
that after combating with so many obstacles,
and undergoing perils so extreme, his way at
length lay clear before him, and a ray of
sunshine fell upon his dismal path. The delusive
hope, if any such were entertained by the
forlorn man, was soon dispelled. It was his
horrible fate to depart from Cirencester
exactly an hour before he arrived there, and
to leave Gloucester ten minutes before he got
to it!

It were vain to endeavour to describe the
condition to which Mr. Lost was reduced by
this overwhelming culmination of his many
hardships. It had been no light shock to
find his native country in the hands of a
nameless foe, cutting off the communication
between one town and another, and carrying
out a system of barricade, little, if at all,
inferior in strength and skill, to the
fortification of Gibraltar. It had been no light
shock to be addressed by maniac voices
urging him to fly to various remote parts
of the kingdom. But, this tremendous blow,
the annihilation of time, the stupendous
reversal of the natural sequence and order of
things, was too much for his endurance—too
much, perhaps, for the endurance of humanity.
He quailed beneath it, and became insensible.

When consciousness returned, he found
himself again on the North-Western line of
Railway, listlessly travelling anywhere. He
remembers, he says, Four Ashes, Spread
Eagle, and Penkridge. They were black, he
thinks, and coaly. He had no business
there; he didn't care whether he was there
or not. He knew where he wanted to go, and
he knew he couldn't go where he wanted.
He was taken to Manchester, Bangor, Liverpool,
Windermere, Dundee and Montrose,
Edinburgh and Glasgow. He repeatedly
found himself in the Isle of Man; believes he
was, several times, all over Wales; knows
he was at Kingstown and Dublin, but has
only a general idea how he got there. Once,
when he thought he was going his own way
at last, he was dropped at a North Staffordshire
Station called (he thinks in mockery)
Mow Cop. As a general rule he observed
that whatsoeTer divergence he made, he came
to Edinburgh. But, there were exceptions—
as when he was set down on the extreme
verge of land at Holyhead, or put aboard a
Steamboat, and carried by way of Paris into