"A grave and godly man, no doubt," said the baker, as they parted company. "I wonder if he is really a merchant after all. He rode a fine horse, and I noticed his gown was of superfine cloth, and trimmed with costly fur; but these London merchants, many of them, are as rich as the great lords, and live in far greater comfort and luxury than our country knights and squires." "I wonder what book he was reading," said Jack. "He must be a learned man to carry a book in his pocket." "I am not so sure of that," said his father laughing. "A man may not certainly be a good baker because his coat is covered with flour." "But he spoke like a scholar, father," said Jack. "Did you not think so?" "There was something uncommon about him, for certain," replied Master Lucas. "He had the look of a man who is always thinking of great and grave subjects. To my mind, his face had something the look of our Sir William." "Sir William had a cousin in London, I know," said Jack, struck by a sudden thought. "Perhaps this might be the same." "Like enough! Like enough. But, my son, you have gone far enough seeing that you are to walk back. My blessing on thee, dearest lad. Take care of thy health, be dutiful and obedient to Uncle Thomas, and learn all that thou canst from him. Learning is light to carry about, and no kind ever comes amiss. Remember thy duty to God and thy father; say thy prayers every day, and thou wilt never go far astray." Jack loaded his father with love and messages to all at home, from the good priest and his sister down to the old cat, whose infirmities of now and then helping himself out of the pantry and shop, he besought his father to pardon. "Never fear; never fear!" said his father, laughing. "The poor beast shall live out his days in peace, I promise thee, for all me. He does but act after his cattish nature, and we must keep temptation out of his way. Once more, my blessing be upon thee." Jack had begun to feel very manly of late, but all his manliness did not prevent his shedding a few tears at parting with his father, nor was Master Lucas free from a similar weakness, which, however, disguised itself under a sharp criticism of the style of riding of poor Simon, who, he averred, sat his mule like one of his own meal-sacks. Jack had wiped the drops from his eyes, and was walking briskly on when his foot stumbled on something at the edge of the footpath. He looked down, and quickly picked up the object which had arrested him. It was a small but thick book, bound in parchment and with brazen clasps, and he had no difficulty in recognizing the book he had seen the stranger reading. He debated for a moment as to whether he ought to open it, but a new book was a rare sight in those parts, and curiosity got the better of his scruples, and he unclasped the volume. The first words he saw arrested his attention, and he walked on reading till he was aroused by some one speaking to him.