“Before we retire,” said Ian, “I should like to ask you how you came to meet Andrew Woolridge. Do you know his story? You can be quite open with me, as I know why he left Holwick.” “Then for heaven’s sake don’t tell the people here,” said Walter. “The man is consumed by remorse, though he tries to pass it off lightly. He is honestly trying to do everything that he can. You are not the only one who has sent a present to Mistress Aline. I can tell you that much, and if Andrew knew who you were, he would not mind. He is a changed man since he left Holwick. He told me that the vision of the child haunted him day and night. “He does not like to talk about the child, but really, if I believed in spells, I should think the child had magic in her. I never saw a man so completely spell bound and I must confess that although I only saw her once, she holds me almost as though I were enchanted.” “It is the same here,” said Ian. “It is a most marvellous thing,” Walter continued, “because she seems quite unconscious of it; not in all my experience have I ever met or heard of anything like it before. That’s three of us, in fact the only people that we know anything about, and it may be the same with every one she meets.” They talked a little longer and Ian discussed his plans for taking up the packman’s life when he had gathered sufficient money, as a means of spreading his message through the land. Then as the hour was getting late they went to their rooms. CHAPTER XVIII A DIPLOMATIC VICTORY Ian had started a letter to Aline some time before, using the parchment with the holes. This he finished and carefully wrapped it up with the buckle, the testament and the chatelaine. In the morning he found Walter and drew him aside. “She may have a letter to send back,” he said, “so try and give her an opportunity. Keep your eyes and ears open too, and find out and tell me everything that you can.” Walter Margrove put the packet inside his doublet, and, after settling the girths of his horses, shook hands warmly with Ian, mounted and rode away down English Street to the South Gate, leaving Ian looking after him, as he gradually drew away. He had a long journey before him and his thoughts were full of the man he had left behind. He had heard Ian Menstrie speak at an open air meeting in Northampton, and at first had been struck by the fiery eloquence of the young Scot and had then been arrested by his message. He had always longed to meet him again; and here he was, actually able to do him a small service. Then his thoughts turned to Holwick and the beautiful irresistible child that had so strangely fascinated him, in spite of himself, in the few minutes that he had seen her. He had not liked to question Master Menstrie, but he wondered what could be the connection between the two; what could the child, obviously a lady, have to do with Menstrie, a common carpenter? Truly it was a remarkable world.