Ian gave him all that the wallet contained and smiled with pleasure as he watched the boy ravenously devour every morsel. It was the first glow of satisfaction that Ian had had since he left Holwick. As the boy munched away Ian thought he might get what information he could; at least he would know how much more road there was before him, which was advisable now that he had nothing whatever left to eat. “Do you know the names of the hills?” he asked casually, as though hunting for a topic of conversation. “Why, of course,” said the boy. “Black Fell is up that way and Cross Fell is over there. If it was a clear day you could see the hills in the west too, Skiddaw and Blencathara and Helvellyn, and all the rest of them. “I wish I was going with you to Carlisle,” he added somewhat wistfully; “a city is better than the hills; not that I do not love the hills,” he continued, “but an apprentice gets more to fill his stomach than a shepherd lad, leastways than one who has no father and mother and who works for Farmer Harrington.” Ian’s heart always went out to children and this gaunt but rather handsome boy interested him not a little. “How old are you,” he asked, “and what is your name?” “My name is Wilfred Johnstone and I shall be twelve come Martinmas.” “Would you like to be apprenticed in the city and do you know anything about it?” “That should I,” he answered; “I should like to be a carpenter like Johnnie o’ the Biggins, whom they sent to Thirsk last year. Some day he will be a master carpenter and be building roofs and houses and sic like bonnie things.” “But, Wilfred, what would Farmer Harrington say if you left him?” “Well, I cannot tell but he would not have cause to say much, for the way that he treats the men and the lads that work for him. I very nearly left him and tramped into Carlisle last week; but it’s hard to become an apprentice if you cannot pay your footing.” Ian had two or three gold pieces left, so he took out one and gave it to the boy. “That will enable you to get to Carlisle, and back again if need be, and stay a while anyway to see if you can find a place. I might be able to help you if you can find me. See the sheep are all right to-night and then come along. I shall be about the market cross most days at noon, and if you do not find me the money will take you back.” The boy’s eyes grew round with astonishment. He took the money and tried incoherently to express his thanks, and then after a pause he asked, “What’s your name?” “Oh, call me James Mitchell; but look you,” Ian added, “do not tell a soul about meeting me or ask for me by name in Carlisle. I cannot help you if you do. Promise me.” The boy looked Ian squarely in the face and held out his hand. “I promise,” he said. Ian grasped the hand and felt the magnetism of a mutual understanding, the boy was clearly honest and true and would keep to his word. “Well, good-bye and God be wi’ ye,” said Ian, and turned away northward.