The boy’s eyes grew round with astonishment. He took the money and tried incoherently to express his thanks, and then after a pause he asked, “What’s your name?”
“Oh, call me James Mitchell; but look you,” Ian added, “do not tell a soul about meeting me or ask for me by name in Carlisle. I cannot help you if you do. Promise me.”
The boy looked Ian squarely in the face and held out his hand. “I promise,” he said.
Ian grasped the hand and felt the magnetism of a mutual understanding, the boy was clearly honest and true and would keep to his word. “Well, good-bye and God be wi’ ye,” said Ian, and turned away northward.
After they parted Ian kept along in the same manner as before and to his great gladness the mist towards evening began to lift. But he was faint and famished and felt weak from want of food. The sleep had done him some good, but he had slept too long and lost most of the day. He felt a little less melancholy after he had seen the boy, but he was still very depressed. His mind ran on old Moll and her talk about the spirits of darkness. Consequently it was a distinct shock when he caught sight of a gigantic figure looming through the mist and striding along a little below him as though seeking a place so as to come up on his level. It was many times larger than himself and in the dim curlings of the mist had a most terrifying aspect.
Ian began to run but the figure started running also. At last he stood still and the figure stopped and turned towards him. For a moment his brain, dizzy with hunger, contemplated a fight with this supernatural being. He mechanically grasped his staff and raised it, and the figure did the same.
Then the tension relaxed and Ian laughed. It was the brocken, the strange spectre of the hills formed by the distorted shadow of his own figure on the mist! In all his hill-travelling this was the first time he had ever seen it; and, although he laughed, the little incident had not helped to steady his nerves. “It has, however, one advantage,” he said; “I now know my direction from the position of the sun.”
Then suddenly the mist broke and there before him was revealed a glorious view. The sun was setting in a crimson glory and the hills of Cumberland, still cloud capped, were flushed with delicate colours. He was below Blacklaw Hill, and Cold Fell blocked the view to the north. Immediately in front was the great plain of Carlisle and beyond that the waters of the Solway. Far on the left a silver glitter showed the position of Ulleswater. It was radiantly beautiful and the more so, because of the contrast with the cold and darkness of the mist.
He decided that on the whole he had better keep to the hills, but it grew dark and he had to spend another cheerless night on the high ground, which was made worse by the gnawing hunger; but somehow his spirit seemed brighter, and in spite of the cold and pain he did not feel so unhappy.
When the morning broke, he set off with a light heart to Brampton, where he secured food without being asked any question and in the evening he found himself in Carlisle.