Sick with the necessity for consolation, he went on the following morning to see the captain. The captain had constituted himself, for some time past, a sort of informal instructor to Comethup; had dragged from an old box some very out-of-date lesson books, and was renewing his own youth by plodding steadily over that first stony ground of knowledge with the boy, taking infinite delight in his pupil's progress. Comethup had learned many things at those lessons--scraps of this and bits of that--and had had, interwoven with the more technical subjects, a certain thread of hard and pure and very fine morality as to straightness of living and one's duty to one's fellows, which had formed the captain's creed throughout all his simple life. On this particular morning, although neither mentioned his distress to the other, the matter was very fully in the minds of both, and no real attempt was made to take lessons seriously. Indeed, the captain, with a very fine intuition, had guessed what would be the condition of Comethup's mind, and had not even got out the books. Comethup found him standing near the window, examining, with a somewhat troubled face, a pair of boots, passing one finger delicately over places in the uppers which seemed untrustworthy, and holding them from him at arm's length, to get a more general effect in regard to their appearance. The soles of the boots were very thin, and the heels rather high. "I am going," said the captain, setting the boots down on the window seat, and gravely returning Comethup's salute, "to pay a visit to the shoemaker's." He regarded the boots with a thoughtful frown. "They _might_ go a week or two longer, Comethup, but the result would probably be disastrous. One gets used in time, when one is not rich, to judge exactly the moment when delay, in a matter of this kind, is no longer safe, and when the thing must be done, if it is to be done at all. It's like fighting a battle, Comethup; either you must strike at a given moment, or you'd better not strike at all. Will you come with me?" The captain always addressed the boy with equal courtesy, and Comethup had learned to reply with gravity. He expressed his willingness now to accompany the captain, and they set out. In a quaint little street, in the very heart of the town--a place which Comethup had not before explored, and which was reached by diving under an archway and then doubling sharply round a corner--they came upon the shop which the captain sought. He had wrapped the boots neatly in brown paper, and carried them tucked under his arm, probably with the desire that no one should guess his errand; he even glanced about him to right and left for a moment before stepping into the low doorway of the shop.