'So let it be,' I said, 'if it is Heaven's will; but you go not up alone;' upon which she yielded, saying she had not thought I had so much sturdiness.
I cannot deny I thought it a mad expedition, though I dreamed not of the straits into which we have since been driven. But I had prayed again and again for guidance, and always it grew clearer to me that I must cleave to my sister. So I made haste to get ready for our wild journey; and after Althea's example, I sewed certain moneys and jewels into the clothes I wore, and put a competent sum in my purse. Then came the telling the Standfasts of our intent. They opposed it at first with all their might, and no wonder; then, their anxiety about Andrew making them yield a little, Matthew took his stand on this, that we must have some protector.
'A man-servant you have at least, or you do not stir,' quoth he.
'But you cannot be spared from this place,' we urged; 'and who else is there faithful and bold enough for such a service?'
'Leave me alone for that,' said he.
And the evening before our departure he brought to us a strange attendant indeed, but one who proved most trusty. It was a poor fellow of the village, who had once been in service at Lacy Manor; but the young Squire hated him, and got him turned away in disgrace, after which no man would employ him, and he fell into great wretchedness. But Andrew came across him, and not only relieved his distress, for he was almost dead for hunger, but put him in a way of living on his own land. So, partly for love of Andrew, and partly from true conviction, poor Will Simpson, so he was called, turned to the Quaker way of thinking. I do not know if he was acknowledged as a proved Friend, he had some odd notions of his own. But he showed himself a peaceable, industrious fellow, and he loved Andrew as a dog might love a kind master that had saved it from drowning. Indeed there was something very dog-like about honest Will. Without having any piercing wit, he had a strange sagacity at the service of those he loved; and his dull heavy face sometimes showed a great warmth of affection, making it seem almost noble. When Matthew told him wherefore he was wanted, he was all on fire to go. He left his hut, and work, and woodman's garb, Matthew having got him a plain serving-man's suit, in which he looked still a little uncouth; and thus he came eagerly to us and begged to be taken with us. Then with no escort but this poor fellow, who, however, knew the road well, and was strong and sturdy, we set forth on our way up to London, bidding adieu to none in West Fazeby, as the Standfasts had advised. I believe it was supposed in the village that we were gone to Mr. Truelocke.
CHAPTER IX.
HOW WE WENT UP TO LONDON, AND FOUND NO FRIENDS THERE.