There was a more human note in the voice that prayed blessing on the boy.
“Hast any food?” Wulf asked.
The unkempt head was shaken, and hastily emptying his wallet, Wulf bent over the man, with the bread and meat which the good sisters had put up for him.
“Bide here until morning,” he said, “and I will bring thee more. I must hasten now. I am not on my own business.”
He was turning away when he saw growing at his feet masses of the pungent, healing wormwood, and a new thought struck him. Hastily gathering a handful of the tenderest leaves, he filled his mouth and began chewing them with his strong young teeth. It was bitter work, and, in spite of himself, his face twisted grimly as he rolled the wry cud on his tongue; but he stuck to the task till he had a big poultice of the wholesome stuff spread on a broad dock-leaf.
Then, first bathing away the hardened blood with a little water from the flask, he clapped the poultice deftly upon the sore and angry wound. After that he was forced to go on with all speed; but there was a note of hearty good cheer in his voice as he bade his patient good-morrow.
So he fared on his way, sore shaken in his healthy young nerves, but gathering strength with every onward stride, his own aching arms and legs fair eased as he thought of the comfort his poultice must be bringing to the outcast’s hurt shoulder.
Traveling thus, bent now only upon his errand, he never saw the stealthy shadow that, mile after mile, kept pace with him beyond the thicket, dodging when he paused, moving when he moved, until, satisfied as to where he was going, the evil thing hurried back over the way to keep tryst with a master as evil, and to carry the welcome news that the tinker had gone alone back to the forge, where quick work might surprise and catch him.
It was the middle of the afternoon when he reached the forge and found Karl, who stared at sight of him.
“I’d dreamed thou wast safe away, boy,” he said, shaking him lovingly by the broad shoulders. “What madness is this? The baron’s men have been here for thee, and thy life is naught worth if they find thee. Why art so foolhardy, son?”