The distance from Chatham is
almost exactly seventeen miles, and it took me until nearly one. It was
very interesting and I do not think I was very fatigued, though I got
rather pinched by one boot.
The morning must have been very clear, because I remember that near
Itchinstow Hall I looked back and saw the estuary of the Thames, that
river that has since played so large a part in my life. But at the time
I did not know it was the Thames, I thought this great expanse of mud
flats and water was the sea, which I had never yet seen nearly. And
out upon it stood ships, sailing ships and a steamer or so, going up to
London or down out into the great seas of the world. I stood for a long
time watching these and thinking whether after all I should not have
done better to have run away to sea.
The nearer I drew to Bladesover, the more doubtful I grew of the duality
of my reception, and the more I regretted that alternative. I suppose it
was the dirty clumsiness of the shipping I had seen nearly, that put me
out of mind of that. I took a short cut through the Warren across the
corner of the main park to intercept the people from the church.
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