‘Who can tell?’ said Wilfred. ‘Nature holds her secrets close. I am inclined to think this seed must have been in the earth, and is now vivified by the half-dry mud. However it may be, it is a crop we shall have good cause to remember.’
‘I hope it will pull us through the winter and that’s all,’ said Guy. ‘I mustn’t be done out of my trip down south. I want to find a new country, and make all our fortunes in a large gentlemanlike way, like Mr. St. Maur told us of. You don’t suppose he goes milking cows and selling cheese and bacon.’
‘You mustn’t despise homely profits, Guy,’ said the elder. ‘Some of the largest proprietors began that way, and you know that “Laborare est orare,” as the old monks said.’
‘Oh yes, I know that,’ said the boy; ‘but there’s all the difference between Columbus discovering America, or Cortez when he climbed the tree in Panama and saw two oceans, and being the mate of a collier. I must have a try at this exploring before I’m much older. There’s such a lot of country no one knows about yet.’
‘You will have your chance, old fellow, and your triumph, like others, I hope. But remember that obedience goes before command, and that Captain Cook was a boy in a collier before he became a finder of continents.’
Wilfred found it necessary to ride over to Benmohr to arrange definitely about the time of departure. He had nearly reached the well-known gate when a horseman rode forward from the opposite direction. He was well mounted, and led a second horse, upon which was a pack-saddle. Both animals were in better condition than was usual in this time of tribulation.
Effingham was about to pass the stranger, whose bronzed features, half concealed by a black beard, he did not recall, when he reined his horses suddenly.
‘You don’t remember me, Mr. Effingham. I am on my way to the old place. I’ve got something to tell you.’
It took more than another glance to enable him to recognise the speaker, and then it was a half-instinctive guess that prompted him to connect the bold black eyes and swarthy countenance with Hubert Warleigh.
‘The same,’ said the horseman. ‘I saw you did not know me; most likely took me for a station overseer or a gentleman. I was a swagman when you saw me last, so I’m getting on, you see.’