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Having found his way to the British Museum； he devoured them at his
leisure as he walked through the Grecian and Roman saloons。 〃What is
the use of good health；〃 he said to himself； 〃if a man cannot live
upon bread？〃 Porridge and oatmeal cakes would have pleased him as
well； but that food for horses is not so easily procured in London；
and costs more than the other。 A cousin of his had lived in
Edinburgh for six months upon eighteen…pence a week in that way； and
had slept the greater part of the time upon the floor； training
himself for the hardships of a soldier's life。 And he could not
forget the college youth whom his comrades had considered mean； till
they learned that； out of his poor bursary of fourteen pounds a
session； and what he could make besides by private teaching at the
rate previously mentioned or even less； he helped his parents to
educate a younger brother； and； in order to do so； lived himself
upon oatmeal and potatoes。 But they did not find this out till
after he was dead； poor fellow！ He could not stand it。
I ought at the same time to mention； that Hugh rarely made use of a
crossing on a muddy day； without finding a half…penny somewhere
about him for the sweeper。 He would rather walk through oceans of
mud； than cross at the natural place when he had no
coppersespecially if he had patent leather boots on。
After he had eaten his bread； he went home to get some water。 Then；
as he had nothing else to do； he sat down in his room； and began to
manufacture a story； thinking it just possible it might be accepted
by one or other of the pseudo…literary publications with which
London is inundated in hebdomadal floods。 He found spinning almost
as easy as if he had been a spider； for he had a ready invention；
and a natural gift of speech； so that； in a few days； he had
finished a story； quite as good as most of those that appear in the
better sort of weekly publications。 This； in his modesty； he sent
to one of the inferior sort； and heard nothing more of it than if he
had flung it into the sea。 Possibly he flew too low。 He tried
again； but with no better success。 His ambition grew with his
disappointments； or perhaps rather with the exercise of his
faculties。 Before many days had passed he made up his mind to try a
novel。 For three months he worked at this six hours a day
regularly。 When material failed him； from the exhaustion consequent
upon uninterrupted production； he would recreate himself by lying
fallow for an hour or two； or walking out in a mood for merely
passive observation。 But this anticipates。
His advertisement did not produce a single inquiry； and he shrunk
from spending more money in such an apparently unprofitable
appliance。 Day after day went by； and no voice reached him from the
unknown world of labour。 He went at last to several stationers'
shops in the neighbourhood； bought some necessary articles； and took
these opportunities of asking if they knew of any one in want of
such assistance as he could give。 But unpleasant as he felt it to
make such inquiries； he soon found that to most people it was
equally unpleasant to reply to them。 There seemed to be something
disreputable in having to answer such questions； to judge from the
constrained； indifferent； and sometimes； though not often； surly
answers which he received。 〃Can it be；〃 thought Hugh； 〃as
disgraceful to ask for work as to ask for bread？〃 If he had had a
thousand a year； and had wanted a situation of another thousand； it
would have been quite commendable； but to try to elude cold and
hunger by inquiring after paltry shillings' worths of hard labour；
was despicable。
So he placed the more hope upon his novel； and worked at that
diligently。 But he did not find it quite so easy as he had at first
expected。 No one finds anything either so easy or so difficult as；
in opposite moods； he had expected to find it。 Everything is
possible； but without labour and failure nothing is achievable。 The
labour； however； comes naturally； and experience grows without
agonizing transitions； while the failure generally points； in its
detected cause； to the way of future success。 He worked on。
He did not； however； forget the ring。 Frequent were his
meditations； in the pauses of his story； and when walking in the
streets； as to the best means of recovering it。 I should rather say
any means than best； for it was not yet a question of choice and
degrees。 The count could not but have known that the ring was of no
money value； therefore it was not likely that he had stolen it in
order to part with it again。 Consequently it would be of no use to
advertise it； or to search for it in the pawnbrokers' or second…hand
jewellers' shops。 To find the crystal； it was clear as itself that
he must first find the count。
But how？He could think of no plan。 Any alarm would place the
count on the defensive； and the jewel at once beyond reach。
Besides； he wished to keep the whole matter quiet； and gain his
object without his or any other name coming before the public。
Therefore he would not venture to apply to the police； though
doubtless they would be able to discover the man； if he were
anywhere in London。 He surmised that in all probability they knew
him already。 But he could not come to any conclusion as to the
object he must have had in view in securing such a trifle。
Hugh had all but forgotten the count's cheque for a hundred guineas；
for； in the first place； he had never intended presenting itthe
repugnance which some minds feel to using money which they have
neither received by gift nor acquired by honest earning； being at
least equal to the pleasure other minds feel in gaining it without
the expense of either labour or obligation； and in the second place；
since he knew more about the drawer； he had felt sure that it would
be of no use to present it。 To make this latter conviction a
certainty； he did present it； and found that there were no effects。
CHAPTER IV。
A LETTER FROM THE POST。
Hipolito。 Is your wife then departed？
Orlando。 She's an old dweller in those high countries； yet not
from me： here； she's here； a good couple are seldom parted。DEKKER。
What wonderful things letters are！ In trembling and hope the
fingers unclasp； and the folded sheet drops intono； not the
post…office letter…boxbut into space。
I have read a story somewhere of a poor child that dropped a letter
into the post…office； addressed to Jesus Christ in Heaven。 And it
reached him； and the child had her answer。 For was it not Christ
present in the good man or womanI forget the particulars of the
storywho sent the child the help she needed？ There was no
necessity for him to answer in person； as in the case of Abgarus；
king of Edessa。
Out of space from somewhere comes the answer。 Such letters as those
given in a previous chapter； are each a spirit…cry sent out； like a
Noah's dove； into the abyss； and the spirit turns its ear； where its
mouth had been turned before； and leans listening for the
spirit…echothe echo with a soul in itthe answering voice which
out of the abyss will enter by the gate now turned to receive it。
Whose will