“Ah, you are surprised to see me, Master Deane!” he observed with a laugh, putting out his hand. “I told you that I was a dealer in woollen goods, so that it is but fit I should appear in the proper guise of a decent merchant, instead of in the habit of a common rough-rider, in which you have before seen me. We have well met, for I have been hunting for you through the fair; and my reverend friend here told me he thought he had seen you, and would assist me in the search. I have brought a despatch for you from a friend; for since we parted I have ridden to Nottingham and back again, and have a communication of importance to make to you. It must be in private though, for it will not do to have eaves-droppers, and we know not who standing round might hear us. Where is worthy Will Brinsmead?”

Jack in reply told Pearson how he had lost his friend in the crowd, and begged to be informed of the tenour of the communication.

“I told you that I cannot deliver it out here,” answered Pearson; “so come along with me and my reverend friend, Master Simon Stirthesoul; for you have not a chance of meeting with Brinsmead again before nightfall; and I will see you afterwards to your lodgings, if you cannot find the way by yourself.”

Jack instinctively gave a hopeless glance round once more for his friend, and then seeing no signs of him, agreed to accompany Pearson and the minister. Pearson seemed anxious not to let Jack escape him, for he took him by the arm, and held it fast while they were working their way through the crowd. This took some time, for the busy throng seemed in no way inclined to make room for them. At length, however, they reached the banks of the Cam, where Master Pearson hailed a wherry and bargained with the rowers to convey them to Cambridge. By this time the shades of evening were coming on, and Jack could not help feeling glad that he had fallen in with Master Pearson, rather than have to find his way by himself back to Cambridge. Never was the river more alive with boats passing and repassing, filled with all descriptions of people, from the magistrate with his chain and cloak of office, his gold-headed mace, and gaudily dressed officials, to small tradesmen and humble artisans with their wives and families. Many returning from the fair were shouting and singing, evidently having paid frequent visits to the vintners’ shops, while the children blew their trumpets and sprung their rattles, as an accompaniment to the vocal music of their elders.

On disembarking from the wherry, Pearson, instead of entering the town, led the way to a distant part of the outskirts, stopping at the door of what appeared to be a small farm-house. A knock with his walking-stick gained him admittance, when exchanging a few words with the inmates, he desired his companions also to enter. A decent-looking woman placed a tankard of ale, with pipes and tobacco, before them, and then, without making any remark, withdrew to an inner room.

“They are trustworthy,” observed Pearson, as he closed the door; “and now, Master Deane, I will deliver my message. In the first place, you remember that evening I met you down by the water-meadows. It appears that in some way or other you have offended your companions on that evening, and one of them being taken up on suspicion of poaching with the hope of saving his own carcass a flogging, or the pillory, has informed against you and me. You will, therefore, find it somewhat dangerous to revisit your native town for the present. Your friend Mr Harwood hearing of this, and knowing that I had become acquainted with you, sent you this packet, which you will examine at your leisure. It contains a further supply of introductions to several people of importance which he wishes you particularly to deliver in person, and I promised him to invite you to accompany me in the journey I propose making shortly to the north. You will there enjoy a wilder sort of life than you will find in this part of the country, and meet with a variety of characters which will afford you a subject of amusement.”

“How provoking!” exclaimed Jack; “I did not think Smedley and Bligh would have turned traitors; and—and—” he hesitated for some seconds.

“You mean to say, you would like to pay another visit to Harwood Grange,” said Pearson, with a laugh. “Well, to my mind, you will serve your own purpose better if you carry out Mr Harwood’s wishes. In a few months probably the matter will be forgotten, and in the mean time you can see something of the world. A trip over to the Continent would be of interest.”

“But I have engaged to accompany Brinsmead to Norwich,” observed Jack; “and I have several commissions of importance to execute there for Mr Strelley. I must not neglect them.”

“No need for you to do so,” answered Pearson. “Go on to Norwich, as you purpose, and I will meet you in a week’s time at Saint Faith’s. I have agreed to wait there for a party of Highland drovers, who are on their way south with some large herds of lean beasts, for the purpose of getting flesh put upon them in the Lincolnshire fens. What do you say to this plan?”