If it had not been for his anxiety about Fairy, this would have been an excursion quite after Jack’s own heart. He delighted in anything unusual which varied the monotony of his daily life, and if it partook of the nature of an adventure he was all the better pleased. As he and his father tramped along the Oatham-road, one walking on the extreme right, the other on the left hand side, it was natural that John should beguile the way with reminiscences of other fogs. “The worst fog I ever remember was when I was courting your mother, Jack. It was just after Lewes sheep fair, and a Saturday night, and it came on quite suddenly, so that I saw it was impossible to attempt to get the sheep home that night, for I was on Mount Caburn, and I did not know the mount so well then as I do now. But I always spent Saturday evening and the best part of Sunday with your mother, and I did not feel inclined to be done out of my weekly treat by the fog, so, though I could not get the sheep into fold, I thought I would leave them to take their chance till the fog lifted, and then come after them; I knew I should soon find them by the help of the bell-wethers and Rover, so I left the sheep, and set off to try and find my way home through the fog. I knew there were one or two nasty places where I might fall and break my neck, so I went pretty carefully, you may be sure. I had no lantern with me, and it was a darker night than to-night, and I think I must have wandered round and round the top of Mount Caburn for three or four hours before I even began to descend. At last I found I was actually on a downward track, though I had not the least idea which side of the hill I was, and I think if I had not been in love I should have remained where I was till the morning, or at least till the fog cleared. As it was, I determined, at all hazards, to go on, though I guessed I should get a scolding from your mother for my pains; so on I went, on my hands and knees, feeling my way before me, for I was afraid to walk upright lest I should step over a precipice, and at last I reached the bottom in safety. Then I had no idea where I was till, luckily for me, I met a man with a lantern, and he put me in the road, but it was too late to go to your mother’s that night, and the greater part of Sunday was spent in looking after the sheep, who had wandered for miles. But this fog won’t last much longer, Jack; the wind is rising,” said the shepherd. “Yes,” said Jack. “I wish it would blow those children home safely. I do hope nothing has happened to them; but Charlie is so careless, he leads Fairy into danger without thinking.” “She does not want much leading into danger; she is apt enough at running into that, I am thinking, Jack. But what is become of Rover?” said the shepherd, stopping and whistling. “Bow-wow-wow,” replied Rover, in an excited tone, from the depths of the fog. “Where are you, sir? Come here,” cried the shepherd.