Punctually at seven o'clock Saturday the professor, accoutered for a journey, with knapsack on his back, presented himself at the servant's door at Brudenell Hall.
His arrival being announced, Ishmael came out to meet him.
"Well, here I am, Mr. Worth; though how I am to travel I don't know.
I have walked, by faith, so far!" he said.
"All right, professor. Mr. Brudenell will lend me an extra horse."
And father and son took leave of each other with earnest wishes for their mutual good.
CHAPTER XII.
THE JOURNEY.
Ever charming, ever new,
When will the landscape tire the view?
The fountains fall, the rivers flow,
The woody valleys, warm and low,
The windy summit, wild and high,
Roughly rushing on the sky!
The pleasant seat, the chapel tower,
The naked rock, the shady bower,
The town and village, dome and farm,
Each gave each a double charm,
As pearls upon a woman's arm.
—Dyer.
Ishmael and his aged retainer rode on, down the elm-shaded avenue and out upon the turnpike road. There seemed to be a special fitness in the relations between these two. Ishmael, you are aware, was a very handsome, stately, and gracious young man. And the professor was the tallest, gravest, and most respectable of servants. Ah, their relative positions were changed since twelve years before, when they used to travel that same road on foot, as "boss" and "boy."
Many men in Ishmael's position would have shrunk from all that would have reminded them of the poverty from which they had sprung; and would have avoided as much as possible all persons who were familiar with their early struggles.