“You have done four out of the fifteen; you have only eleven of the fifteen before you now. You have got over seven altogether up to this. Not so bad. You’re not tired, youngster?”
“Not the least.”
“That’s right. You’re a good soldier. Now come, we’ll stand close under this hedge and eat a bit.”
They supped very heartily on great slices of bread and corned beef, which bore ample traces of the greens in which it had been served when hot.
“And now, boy, you must get on to Hatherton by yourself, for I’m known about here, and there’s a fair there in the morning, and there will be people on the way before light. You must go a mile beyond the town, to the George public. Mrs. Gumford keeps it, and there I’ll meet you.” Then he detailed the route and the landmarks for the boy’s guidance. “Take a drink of this,” said he, pulling a soda-water bottle full of milk out of his coat pocket.
And when he had done—
“Take a mouthful of this, my hero, it will keep you warm.”
And he placed a flask of brandy to the boy’s lips, and made him swallow a little.
“And here’s a bit more bread, if you should be hungry. Good-night, and remember.”
After about an hour’s solitary walking, the boy began to grow alarmed. Tom’s landmarks failed him, and he began to fear that he had lost his way. In half an hour more he was sure that he was quite out of his reckoning, and as his spirits sank he began to feel the cold wind and drenching rain more and more.