While he was in this perplexity, he bethought himself of his first schoolmaster, the man who taught in the Church where Camden visited him. He had forgotten all about this man, except that he was of a mild and kind nature; but he was so anxious for direction that he went to him at once. This man had been very poor, and brought up a large family, all of whom, however, he had put forward in life, some at the University and the Church, and some among the clothiers and glove-makers at Malmsbury and the other towns of Wiltshire. Johnny found him living alone—for his wife was dead—in a small cottage no better than a countryman’s, with a few books, which with his garden were all the wealth he possessed. He was a great herbalist, and famous in the country for his cures and for his sermons, though no two people could agree why they admired the latter; all uniting in considering him a simple and rather poor preacher. This Inglesant learnt from a countryman who walked at his horse’s side as he came near the village; but when he found the old gentleman sitting on a bench before his study window, and he rose and met his look, Inglesant saw at once—thanks to the cultivation of his perception by the Jesuit’s teaching—what it was that gained him the people’s love. He had large and melting eyes that looked straight into the hearts of those who met him, as though eager to help them and do them good. He received Johnny with great kindness, though he had quite forgotten him, and did not even remember when he told him who he was. But when Inglesant, who found it very easy to speak to him of what had brought him there, told him of his difficulties, he listened with the greatest interest and sympathy. When he had finished speaking, he remained some minutes silent, looking across the garden where the hot mid-day air was playing above the flowers.