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carefully. The great cauldron below was filled with mist, as if water was bubbling within it. Then the road descended steeply towards Moffat, where plumes of smoke were drifting up from a dozen chimneys. By noon I was walking through the village, having met not a soul on the way.
    I had now reached the boundary of my world. Beyond Moffat, the landscape was unfamiliar. I began to feel a sense of adventure, mixed with apprehension. I carried on south and by the evening the drover's road merged with a broader track heading towards Carlisle and beyond.
    My mother had given me enough silver coins to purchase food for some weeks. The Dominie's pike was in my hands and his ballockknife was hidden in my sleeve, its sheath strapped to my wrist. I was to wonder many times, in my long journey, what lay in this strange man's past and what tales the dagger could tell. Be that as it may, pike and knife gave me a sense of security; the robber who attempted to waylay me would be risking a cut throat.
    My satchel held not only a purse of coins, but also a small Bible and - God bless the Dominie - Thomas North's translation of Plutarchs's Lives. Useless baggage? My mother would have said so. But in the days to come the wisdom of these men of liberty - Solon, Publicola, Philopoemen, Titus Quinctius Flamininus and Caius Marius -was to shine through the mists of time, lighting my way through terrifying darkness, and I was the stronger for their companionship. I truly believe that I would not have survived to this day without them.
    You may think that a country boy going alone into unknown territory would be prey to the wiles of clever tricksters, who would present themselves as affable companions but whose true purpose would be to lighten me of my coins. And indeed some tried, even at the end of my first day when, with darkness falling, I stopped at a hot and cheerful hostelry. But I will not trouble you with the adventures of my long journey south - I write this in circumstances where parchment must be used sparsely, and indeed in circumstances where I must write quickly, for my survival is far from certain. Suffice to say that I found myself equal to all that I encountered, and that when I entered London three weeks later, with my last coin gone and the soles of my shoes wearing thin, I had been measured and not found wanting in the world of men.
    I saw the haze of that great city a full half day before I saw the city itself.
     
    CHAPTER 6
     
    As I approached the city I began to pass houses the likes of which I had never before seen. They were like palaces, almost as grand as the castles I had glimpsed in the distance on my way south. Some were reached through long, broad paths and were surrounded by trees and shrubs cut in patterns which were clearly the work of man. The road broadened and from time to time horsemen would pass, sometimes singly, sometimes in twos or threes, dressed in fine clothes and with long, thin swords in scabbards. Then the houses became smaller and more clustered, with little space that I could see for gardens.
    Individuals began to pass me, paying me little attention. In my long walk from Scotland I had preferred to travel alone - keeping my own counsel, as the Dominie would have said. Unwelcome companions had been met with dourness and taciturnity and had soon found excuses to part company with me. Here I had no such problem. There was not even a nod of greeting.
    Within an hour of reaching the border of the city I was walking past rows of houses stuck together, and people in their hundreds walking on roads covered with filth. The air stank worse than our byre. I had to step around dung and garbage many times. I wondered how people could be content to live in this way. I began to notice that I was receiving curious stares, and I surmised that my tunic, my breeches, my cap and my pike were the objects of this attention. Indeed, two young women ran past me giggling, covering their mouths with their hands. I noticed