Perhaps I was not wise in building such a wall of scruples.  Nevertheless, all that was there, and weighed upon me heavily.  And at last I made up my mind to this, that even Lorna must not know the reason of my going, neither anything about it; but that she might know I was gone a long way from home, and perhaps be sorry for it.  Now how was I to let her know even that much of the matter, without breaking compact?

Puzzling on this, I fell asleep, after the proper time to get up; nor was I to be seen at breakfast time; and mother (being quite strange to that) was very uneasy about it.  But Master Stickles assured her that the King’s writ often had that effect, and the symptom was a good one.

“Now, Master Stickles, when must we start?” I asked him, as he lounged in the yard gazing at our turkey poults picking and running in the sun to the tune of their father’s gobble.  “Your horse was greatly foundered, sir, and is hardly fit for the road to-day; and Smiler was sledding yesterday all up the higher Cleve; and none of the rest can carry me.”

“In a few more years,” replied the King’s officer, contemplating me with much satisfaction; “’twill be a cruelty to any horse to put thee on his back, John.”

Master Stickles, by this time, was quite familiar with us, calling me “Jack,” and Eliza “Lizzie,” and what I liked the least of all, our pretty Annie “Nancy.”

“That will be as God pleases, sir,” I answered him, rather sharply; “and the horse that suffers will not be thine.  But I wish to know when we must start upon our long travel to London town.  I perceive that the matter is of great despatch and urgency.”

“To be sure, so it is, my son.  But I see a yearling turkey there, him I mean with the hop in his walk, who (if I know aught of fowls) would roast well to-morrow.  Thy mother must have preparation:  it is no more than reasonable.  Now, have that turkey killed to-night (for his fatness makes me long for him), and we will have him for dinner to-morrow, with, perhaps, one of his brethren; and a few more collops of red deer’s flesh for supper, and then on the Friday morning, with the grace of God, we will set our faces to the road, upon His Majesty’s business.”

“Nay, but good sir,” I asked with some trembling, so eager was I to see Lorna; “if His Majesty’s business will keep till Friday, may it not keep until Monday?  We have a litter of sucking-pigs, excellently choice and white, six weeks old, come Friday.  There be too many for the sow, and one of them needeth roasting.  Think you not it would be a pity to leave the women to carve it?”

“My son Jack,” replied Master Stickles, “never was I in such quarters yet:  and God forbid that I should be so unthankful to Him as to hurry away.  And now I think on it, Friday is not a day upon which pious people love to commence an enterprise.  I will choose the young pig to-morrow at noon, at which time they are wont to gambol; and we will celebrate his birthday by carving him on Friday.  After that we will gird our loins, and set forth early on Saturday.”