"Where is he off to, I wonder?" thought Paul.
The master had been so concentrated in his thoughts that he had no suspicion as to who was in hiding by the roadside. Paul's memory at once went back to the last part of Hibbert's story—the part which he had almost lost sight of in the overwhelming interest of the first part. Mr. Weevil was Hibbert's uncle—Zuker's brother-in-law.
Were they in league together? Paul's glance followed Mr. Weevil along the road. An overmastering desire seized him, a desire that he could not resist. Instinctively, as one in a dream, he followed in the footsteps of the master. Presently they reached Cranstead Common. Instead of turning in the direction of the sand-pits, the battle-ground of the Bedes and the Garsiders, Mr. Weevil turned to the left—to that part of it which was more thickly wooded—where there were trees and furze-bushes and bramble in wild profusion.
"Where on earth can he be going?" Paul asked himself wonderingly.
Well might he ask, for it was scarcely possible to imagine a wilder or more solitary spot. It led to no habitation, none at least that Paul was aware of, and he was pretty familiar with the common.
"He can't be on a visit to any one, unless it be the pixies, or creatures of that sort," thought Paul. "P'raps he's thinking out some scientific problem, and finds this wild part the best place to do it in."
He paused for an instant. What was the use of going farther? He was on a wildgoose chase, but still the overmastering impulse which had led him to follow Mr. Weevil held him in its grip and would not let him turn back. So he went on in close pursuit of the shadowy figure in front of him.
"Why, he'll be getting to the river presently. Perhaps that is what he is making for?" thought Paul as the master plunged deeper into the thicket.
The river skirted the far side of the common, and it was precisely in that direction Mr. Weevil was travelling. He had never once looked to the right or left, so absorbed had he been in his thoughts, but now he suddenly paused and looked back.
Paul had just time to hide himself in the friendly shelter of a tree. He stood there for an instant, then peeped out from his hiding-place. He caught one glimpse of Mr. Weevil, and then, to his amazement, he disappeared from view as completely as though the earth had opened and swallowed him up.