More than once he laughed a little to think of
the vain question of his whereabouts which was being mooted in the
underworld of Europe, where (as well he knew) men and women spat when
they named him. For his route from the Channel coast to Le Monastier
had been sufficiently discreet and devious to persuade him that his
escape had been as cleanly executed as it was timely instigated.
Thus for upwards of a fortnight he fared southward in the footsteps of
Mr. Stevenson; and much good profit had he of the adventure. For it was
his common practice to go to bed with the birds and rise with the sun;
and more often than not he lodged in the inn of the silver moon, with
moss for a couch, leafy boughs for a canopy and the stars for
night-lights--accommodations infinitely more agreeable than those
afforded by the grubby and malodorous auberge of the wayside average.
And between sun and sun he punished his boots famously.
Constant exercise tuned up muscles gone slack and soft with easy
living, upland winds cleansed the man of the reek of cities and made
his appetite a thing appalling.
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