Accordingly they started for Canterbury on post horses, but having arrived here, Captain Cheap, the commander of the "Wager," whose health had been grievously impaired by his sufferings, was unable to proceed, and they were compelled to find a lodging. The next day the captain proved too ill to ride further, and it was therefore agreed that he and the surgeon, Mr. Hamilton, should take a post chaise, while Byron continued to ride; but here an unfortunate difficulty was started, for upon sharing the little money which they had, it was found to be insufficient to defray the charges of the journey, while Byron's proportion fell so much short that it was barely enough to pay for the horses, without refreshment, on the road, or even for the turnpikes. The latter difficulty was got over by the device of riding, as Byron says, "as hard as I could through them all," not paying the least regard to the men who called out to stop him, and who probably took him for a highwayman, and were thankful that he did not, besides defrauding them, insist on carrying off their little treasury of tolls. The want of refreshment was a minor evil. Having arrived in the Borough, Byron continues, "I took a coach and drove to Marlborough Street, where my friends had lived, but when I came there I found the house shut up. Having been absent so many years, and in all that time never having heard a word from home, I knew not who was dead or who was living, or where to go next, or even how to pay the coachman;" but, fortunately, he remembered a linendraper, not far distant, with whom his family had dealt, and who kindly relieved him from this difficulty.
He then inquired of some persons after his family,
