"MY DEAR CAPTAIN,
"I will find the heeling herb, no fear about that! And I'll make a potion of it to be swallowed at midnight in the dark. And you will rise up early a hale and harty man. So three cheers for our Captain and his crew.
"Yours as signed, BOLT."
Faith had these letters read aloud to her and she thought them wonderfully clever.
The very next day, Charity and Hope set off on their different quests. Faith wandered out alone. She called at Timothy's cottage, but he was out; and then she rambled on through some fields, and made her way along a strange lane, which had banks of primroses on each side. Presently she saw a hole through the hedge; she crept through, and then she started, for two men were talking together. They were standing by a rick of hay, and she heard one man say with passion in his tone:
"I tell you, Fielding, I'm so dead sick of rotting here like a vegetable, when I might be up and doing with the rest of the working world, that at times I feel inclined to make a bolt for it!"
"It's hard lines," murmured the other man, and then the two separated.
One went on across the field, the other turned and faced Faith, and she saw it was the Pirate. Just for a moment he looked as if he were going to pass her without speaking, and his brows were knitted so fiercely, and his face so gloomy, that Faith was frightened. He stood still, as he saw her shrinking into the hedge, and then his brow cleared.
"Why, it's one of the treasure seekers, isn't it?" he said in his pleasant voice.
Then Faith held out her small hand.
"I'm so glad you will speak to me," she said, "I should have been so disappointed, if you hadn't."
"Would you? And what are you doing alone here?"