At daybreak the next morning he awoke, a little less agitated, but still with no hope. He was able, however, to resolve upon the best course of conduct now left open to him; and he arranged immediately to retrace his steps to Ireland, as soon as he should have begged sufficient alms to speed him a mile on the road. With this intent he hastily issued forth, preferring to challenge the notice of chance passengers, even at the early hour of dawn, than to venture again, in the middle of the day, among the dreaded crowds of the vast city. Very few, indeed, were the passers-by whom Shamus met during his straggling and stealthy walk through the streets, and those of a description little able or willing to afford a half-penny to his humbled, whining suit, and to his spasmed lip and watery eye. In what direction he went Shamus did not know; but at last he found himself entering upon the scene of his yesterday’s terror. Now, however, it presented nothing to renew its former impression. The shops at the sides of the bridge were closed, and the occasional stragglers of either sex who came along inspired Shamus, little as he knew of a great city, with aversion rather than with dread. In the quietness and security of his present position, Shamus was both courageous and weak enough again to summon up his dream. “Come,” he said, “since I _am_ on Lunnon Bridge, I’ll walk over every stone of it, and see what good that will do.” He valiantly gained the far end. Here one house, of all that stood upon the bridge, began to be opened; it was a public-house, and, by a sidelong glance as he passed, Shamus thought that, in the person of a red-cheeked, red-nosed, sunken-eyed, elderly man, who took down the window-shutters, he recognised the proprietor. This person looked at Shamus, in return, with peculiar scrutiny. The wanderer liked neither his regards nor the expression of his countenance, and quickened his steps onward until he cleared the bridge. “But I’ll walk it over at the other side now,” he bethought, after allowing the publican time to finish opening his house and retire out of view. But, repassing the house, the man still appeared, leaning against his door-jamb, and as if waiting for Shamus’s return, whom, upon this second occasion, he eyed more attentively than before. “Sorrow’s in him,” thought Shamus, “have I two heads on me, that I’m such a sight to him? But who cares about his pair of ferret eyes? I’ll thrudge down the middle stone of it, at any rate!” Accordingly, he again walked toward the public-house, keeping the middle of the bridge. “Good-morrow, friend,” said the publican, as Shamus a third time passed his door. “Sarvant kindly, sir,” answered Shamus, respectfully pulling down the brim of his hat, and increasing his pace. “Am early hour you choose for a morning walk,” continued his new acquaintance. “Brave and early, faix, sir,” said Shamus, still hurrying off.