“Ay,” said his mother, “but Master Walter was here but yesterday, how are we to get him?”
John thought for a time and then said,--“I have no regular work here and Silas, who sees to my hours, is one of our faith. I would even risk telling him something; although I need not say it is for Mistress Aline that I want to see Walter.”
“But how would you find Walter even if you did consult Silas?” said his mother.
“That should not be difficult,” said John. “He always calls at Carlisle on his rounds and I think I heard him say that he expected to be there this time within a sennight. In any case, however, he gets there long enough before he gets here. He generally stays with one, Timothy Fenwick, at the sign of the Golden Keys.”
“How will you go,” said his mother, “round by Middleton?”
“No, it is such a long way round; I shall keep this side the river.”
“Yes, if I can get off to-day; the sky is clear and the weather set and the snow hard.”
“Well, good-bye, my boy. God bless you and I trust the Lord will grant you success.”
John Arnside obtained the permission with no trouble at all, made himself up a bundle, put it on a stick over his shoulder, kissed his mother and set off.
Fortune favoured him and on the third day he was in Carlisle without mishap.
He enquired for the Golden Keys and easily found the house, but Walter was not there. He found, however, a man seated by the fire; he was of medium height, lightly built and well proportioned. He looked very ill and was holding one knee with his hands as he leaned back, and was gazing into the fire with his deep set eyes.
“Come and sit by the fire, lad, the day is cold.”
John came as invited. “I heard you asking for Walter Margrove,” said the stranger, “he will not be here for some time. I hope your business is not of importance.”
“Well,” said the boy, “I must just wait, unless you could tell me where he is to be found.”
“That could not I,” replied the other. “I know he was going to Newcastle and then up Tyne and down Tees; after that I think he was going to Skipton and West to Clitheroe and then North. He should be somewhere on the Tees now, I reckon, perhaps down as far as Rokeby.”
The man lifted his grey deep set eyes; they had a far away look in them, as though he did not see the boy before him. They were watching the Tees come over the High Force and the rainbow that hung in the quivering spray.