That visit seemed to do me good. It was as if I had had a fillip, and during the next few days I felt a return of my old vigour—a feeling which made me restless and eager to be out in the sunshine all day long. I found myself eating, too, almost ravenously, and my sleep at nights, instead of being broken and feverish, grew to be long and restful. But somehow I did not feel happy, for Mr Raydon, though always pleasant and polite, was less warm, and he looked at me still in a suspicious way that made me feel uncomfortable.
In other respects everything went on as usual, till one day, about a fortnight after Gunson’s departure, Mr Raydon said to me at breakfast—
“Do you feel strong enough to go for a week’s journey?”
“Oh yes,” I said eagerly, for I was beginning to long for something in the way of change.
“It means walking every step of the way,” he said, smiling at my eagerness.
“Oh, I can walk again well now,” I said. “Dean and I were climbing up the first west mountain yesterday—that one,” I said, pointing out of the window. “I don’t know how many hours we were, but it was dark when we came back.”
“Well then, we’ll try. I shall take Grey to try and lighten our loads a little, but we shall not go very far down the river.”
“You are going down the river?” I said, as I saw Esau prick up his ears.
“Yes; I have two or three spots in my mind’s eye that would be suitable for a home for my sister, and I want to see if they will do. Perhaps you noticed them as you came—places that you would naturally pick out for camping as evening came on.”
“I can remember several at the mouths of little streams, or below falls,” I said excitedly. “One or two were quite like bits of parks, with great sweeping branched pine-trees growing near.”