"I have a sort of feeling about that lake; it's the one childish spot that is left in my imagination. The nursery is to blame for it--old stories and warnings; and I can't think of that. I should feel I had invoked an evil omen if I did. I know it is all nonsense; but we are queer creatures, Feltram. I must only ride there." "Why, it is five-and-twenty miles round the lake to that; and after all were done, he would not see you. He knows what he's worth, and he'll have his own way," answered Feltram. "The sun will soon set. See that withered branch, near Snakes Island, that looks like fingers rising from the water? When its points grow tipped with red, the sun has but three minutes to live." "That is a wonder which I can't see; it is too far away." "Yes, the lake has many signs; but it needs sight to see them," said Feltram. "So it does," said the Baronet; "more than most men have got. I'll ride round, I say; and I make my visit, for this time, my own way." "You'll not find him, then; and he wants his money. It would be a pity to vex him." "It was to you he lent the money," said Sir Bale. "Yes." "Well, you are the proper person to find him out and pay him," urged Sir Bale. "Perhaps so; but he invites you; and if you don't go, he may be offended, and you may hear no more from him." "We'll try. When can you go? There are races to come off next week, for once and away, at Langton. I should not mind trying my luck there. What do you say? "You can go there and pay him, and ask the same question--what horses, I mean, are to win. All the county are to be there; and plenty of money will change hands." "I'll try," said Feltram. "When will you go?" "To-morrow," he answered. "I have an odd idea, Feltram, that you are really going to pay off those cursed mortgages." He laid his hand with at least a gesture of kindness on the thin arm of Feltram, who coldly answered, "So have I;" and walked down the side of the little knoll and away, without another word or look. CHAPTER XVIII On the Lake, at Last Next day Philip Feltram crossed the lake; and Sir Bale, seeing the boat on the water, guessed its destination, and watched its progress with no little interest, until he saw it moored and its sail drop at the rude pier that affords a landing at the Clough of Feltram. He was now satisfied that Philip had actually gone to seek out the 'cunning man,' and gather hints for the next race. When that evening Feltram returned, and, later still, entered Sir Bale's library, the master of Mardykes was gladder to see his face and more interested about his news than he would have cared to confess. Philip Feltram did not affect unconsciousness of that anxiety, but, with great directness, proceeded to satisfy it.