We came without any unnecessary delay from Troy to New York, where we arrived in the morning, either on Thursday or Friday, as I believe: but my companion there disappeared without informing me where he was going, and I saw him no more. Being now, as I presumed, beyond the reach of my enemies, I felt relief from the fear of being carried back to the nunnery, and sentenced to death or the cells: but I was in a large city where I had not a friend. Feeling overwhelmed with my miserable condition, I longed for death; and yet I felt no desire to make another attempt to destroy myself. On the contrary, I determined to seek some solitary retreat, and await God's time to remove me from a world in which I had found so much trouble, hoping and believing that it would not be long. Not knowing which way to go to find solitude, I spoke to a little boy, whom I saw on the wharf, and told, him I would give him some money if he would lead me into the "_bush_". (This is the common word by which, in Canada, we speak of the woods or forests.) When he understood what I meant, he told me that there was no _bush_ about New York; but consented to lead me to the most lonely place he knew of. He accordingly set off, and I followed him, on a long walk to the upper part of the city, and beyond, until we reached the outskirts of it. Turning off from the road, we gained a little hollow, where were a few trees and bushes, a considerable distance from any house; and there, he told me, was the loneliest place with which he was acquainted. I paid him for his trouble out of the small stock of money I had in my possession, and let him go home, desiring him to come the next day, and bring me something to eat, with a few pennies which I gave him. CHAPTER XXV. Reflections and sorrow in solitude--Night--Fears--Exposure to rain--Discovered by strangers--Their unwelcome kindness--Taken to the Bellevue Almshouse. There I found myself once more alone, and truly it was a great relief to sit down and feel that I was out of the reach of priests and nuns, and in a spot where I could patiently wait for death, when God might please to send it, instead of being abused and tormented according to the caprices and passions of my persecutors. But then again returned most bitter anticipations of the future. Life had no attractions for me, for it must be connected with shame; but death under any circumstances, could not be divested of horrors, so long as I believed in the doctrines relating to it which had been inculcated upon me.