“It is very tiresome, Tony,” said Mr Hallett. “Are you a good walker?”
“Pretty well,” I said. “How far is it?”
“Twelve or thirteen miles. Shall we try it?”
“Oh yes,” I said. “It’s a beautiful night, and we shall see plenty of moths.”
“Come along, then, my boy,” he cried; and away we went.
Our long rest since dinner had made me better able to manage the task; and I noticed that Mr Hallett did all he could to lighten the way by talking, and he could talk well. As, then, we trudged along the wide, firm road, he told me a little about himself and his home; and so it was that I learned that he had an invalid mother and a sister, who were dependent upon him; that his early life had been in the country, where his father had been a surgeon, and that on his father’s death he had been compelled to come to London.
“To seek your fortune, Mr Hallett?” I asked.
“Well, yes, if you like to call it so, Tony,” he said, laughing. “Ah, my boy, let me give you advice that I am only too loth to take myself—don’t degenerate into a dreamer.”
“A dreamer, Mr Hallett?”
“Yes, boy; one whose mind is set on what people call making a fortune—that miserable style of enthusiast, who ignores the present in his search for something that he may never find, and which, even if he does, he may never enjoy. Tony, my boy, don’t heed what people say about this being a miserable world and a vale of tears; it is a very beautiful and a very glorious world with heights and mountains bright in the sunshine of truth. We all have to wander down into the valley sometimes, but there are other times when we are in the sunshine on the heights. When we are there, let’s take it and enjoy it, and not sit down and grumble, and strive to climb to another mountain, close by, that seems higher and brighter than the one we are on. Take what fate sends you, my dear boy, and take it patiently. Use your strength to bear it, and—there, let’s come back out of the imaginary into the rear—go on setting up your pied type, and enjoy the pleasure after of having won a victory, or, in the present case, stride out manfully. Every step takes us nearer to London; and when we have got there, and have slept off our fatigue, we can laugh at our adventure. Why, we must be halfway there now. But how you limp!”