In the forest I met an aged peasant, who gave me a friendly greeting, and with whom I entered into conversation, requesting, as a traveller desirous of information, some particulars relative to the road, the country, and its inhabitants, the productions of the mountain, &c.  He replied to my various inquiries with readiness and intelligence.  At last we reached the bed of a mountain-torrent, which had laid waste a considerable tract of the forest; I inwardly shuddered at the idea of the open sunshine.  I suffered the peasant to go before me.  In the middle of the very place which I dreaded so much, he suddenly stopped, and turned back to give me an account of this inundation; but instantly perceiving that I had no shadow, he broke off abruptly, and exclaimed, “How is this?—­you have no shadow!”

“Alas, alas!” said I, “in a long and serious illness I had the misfortune to lose my hair, my nails, and my shadow.  Look, good father; although my hair has grown again, it is quite white; and at my age, my nails are still very short; and my poor shadow seems to have left me, never to return.”

“Ah!” said the old man, shaking his head; “no shadow! that was indeed a terrible illness, sir.”

But he did not resume his narrative; and at the very first cross-road we came to, left me without uttering a syllable.  Fresh tears flowed from my eyes, and my cheerfulness had fled.  With a heavy heart I travelled on, avoiding all society.  I plunged into the deepest shades of the forest; and often, to avoid a sunny tract of country, I waited for hours till every human being had left it, and I could pass it unobserved.  In the evenings I took shelter in the villages.  I bent my steps to a mine in the mountains, where I hoped to meet with work underground; for besides that my present situation compelled me to provide for my own support, I felt that incessant and laborious occupation alone could divert my mind from dwelling on painful subjects.  A few rainy days assisted me materially on my journey; but it was to the no small detriment of my boots, the soles of which were better suited to Count Peter than to the poor foot-traveller.  I was soon barefoot, and a new purchase must be made.  The following morning I commenced an earnest search in a marketplace, where a fair was being held; and I saw in one of the booths new and second-hand boots set out for sale.  I was a long time selecting and bargaining; I wished much to have a new pair, but was frightened at the extravagant price; and so was obliged to content myself with a second-hand pair, still pretty good and strong, which the beautiful fair-haired youth who kept the booth handed over to me with a cheerful smile, wishing me a prosperous journey.  I went on, and left the place immediately by the northern gate.