“There are some good fellows who should not climb,” he said.  “When they find themselves standing on a bit of rock jutting out over emptiness, their heads begin to whirl round—­and then, if they don’t turn head over heels a few thousand feet, it is because some comrade is near enough to drag them back.  There can be no ceremony then and they sometimes get hurt—­as my friend did yesterday.”

“Did you never get hurt yourself?” The Rat asked.

“When I was eight years old I did that,” said the young shoemaker, touching the scar on his forehead.  “But it was not much.  My father was a guide and took me with him.  He wanted me to begin early.  There is nothing like it—­climbing.  I shall be at it again.  This won’t do for me.  I tried shoemaking because I was in love with a girl who wanted me to stay at home.  She married another man.  I am glad of it.  Once a guide, always a guide.”  He knelt down to measure Marco’s foot, and Marco bent a little forward.

“The Lamp is lighted,” he said.

There was no one in the shop, but the door was open and people were passing in the narrow street; so the shoemaker did not lift his red head.  He went on measuring.

“God be thanked!” he said, in a low voice.  “Do you want these shoes really, or did you only want me to take your measure?”

“I cannot wait until they are made,” Marco answered.  “I must go on.”

“Yes, you must go on,” answered the shoemaker.  “But I’ll tell you what I’ll do—­I’ll make them and keep them.  Some great day might come when I shall show them to people and swagger about them.”  He glanced round cautiously, and then ended, still bending over his measuring.  “They will be called the shoes of the Bearer of the Sign.  And I shall say, ’He was only a lad.  This was the size of his foot.’” Then he stood up with a great smile.

“There’ll be climbing enough to be done now,” he said, “and I look to see you again somewhere.”

When the boys went away, they talked it over.

“The hair-dresser didn’t want to be a hair-dresser, and the shoemaker didn’t want to make shoes,” said The Rat.  “They both wanted to be mountain-climbers.  There are mountains in Samavia and mountains on the way to it.  You showed them to me on the map.

“Yes; and secret messengers who can climb anywhere, and cross dangerous places, and reconnoiter from points no one else can reach, can find out things and give signals other men cannot,” said Marco.

“That’s what I thought out,” The Rat answered.  “That was what he meant when he said, ‘There will be climbing enough to be done now.’”