Worthy of that Lombard plain, which they had told me was so full of
wonderful things.
I gave up all hope of by-roads, and I determined to
push back obliquely to the highway again - obliquely in order to save
time! Nepios!
These 'by-roads' of the map turned out in real life to be all manner
of abominable tracks. Some few were metalled, some were cart-ruts
merely, some were open lanes of rank grass; and along most there went
a horrible ditch, and in many fields the standing water proclaimed
desolation. IN so far as I can be said to have had a way at all, I
lost it. I could not ask my way because my only ultimate goal was
Piacenza, and that was far off. I did not know the name of any place
between. Two or three groups of houses I passed, and sometimes church
towers glimmered through the rain. I passed a larger and wider road
than the rest, but obviously not my road; I pressed on and passed
another; and by this time, having ploughed up Lombardy for some four
hours, I was utterly lost. I no longer felt the north, and, for all I
knew, I might be going backwards. The only certain thing was that I
was somewhere in the belt between the highroad and the Lambro, and
that was little enough to know at the close of such a day. Grown
desperate, I clamoured within my mind for a miracle; and it was not
long before I saw a little bent man sitting on a crazy cart and going
ahead of me at a pace much slower than a walk - the pace of a horse
crawling.
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