come of him? He did not
very much care, if he could find any calling, however humble, that would
just give him bread.

There was an old fellow and his wife (an ancient dame,) who lived at the
other side of the lake, on the old territories of the Feltrams, and who,
from some tradition of loyalty, perhaps, were fond of poor Philip
Feltram. They lived somewhat high up on the fells--about as high as
trees would grow--and those which were clumped about their rude dwelling
were nearly the last you passed in your ascent of the mountain. These
people had a multitude of sheep and goats, and lived in their airy
solitude a pastoral and simple life, and were childless. Philip Feltram
was hardy and active, having passed his early days among that arduous
scenery. Cold and rain did not trouble him; and these people being
wealthy in their way, and loving him, would be glad to find him
employment of that desultory pastoral kind which would best suit him.

This vague idea was the only thing resembling a plan in his mind.

When Philip Feltram came to Mrs. Julaper's room, and told her that he
had made up his mind to leave the house forthwith--to cross the lake to
the Cloostedd side in Tom Marlin's boat, and then to make his way up the
hill alone to Trebeck's lonely farmstead, Mrs. Julaper was overwhelmed.

"Ye'll do no such thing to-night, anyhow. You're not to go like that.
Ye'll come into the small room here, where he can't follow; and we'll
sit down and talk it over a bit, and ye'll find 'twill all come
straight; and this will be no night, anyhow, for such a march. Why,
man,'twould take an hour and more to cross the lake, and then a long
uphill walk before ye could reach Trebeck's place; and if the night
should fall while you were still on the mountain, ye might lose your
life among the rocks. It can't be 'tis come to that yet; and the call
was in the air, I'm told, all yesterday, and distant thunder to-day,
travelling this way over Blarwyn Fells; and 'twill be a night no one
will be out, much less on the mountain side."

CHAPTER IX

The Crazy Parson

Mrs. Julaper had grown weather-wise, living for so long among this noble
and solitary scenery, where people must observe Nature or else
nothing--where signs of coming storm or change are almost local, and
record themselves on particular cliffs and mountain-peaks, or in the
mists, or in mirrored tints of the familiar lake, and are easily learned
or remembered. At all events,