There lay Mr.Idle writhing with pain,there was the mist as thick as ever,there was the landlord as completely lost as the strangers whom he was conducting,and there was the compass broken in Goodchild's pocket.To leave the wretched Thomas on unknown ground was plainly impossible;and to get him to walk with a badly sprained ankle seemed equally out of the question.However,Goodchild (brought back by his cry for help)bandaged the ankle with a pocket-handkerchief,and assisted by the landlord,raised the crippled Apprentice to his legs,offered him a shoulder to lean on,and exhorted him for the sake of the whole party to try if he could walk.Thomas,assisted by the shoulder on one side,and a stick on the other,did try,with what pain and difficulty those only can imagine who have sprained an ankle and have had to tread on it afterwards.At a pace adapted to the feeble hobbling of a newly-lamed man,the lost party moved on,perfectly ignorant whether they were on the right side of the mountain or the wrong,and equally uncertain how long Idle would be able to contend with the pain in his ankle,before he gave in altogether and fell down again,unable to stir another step.
Slowly and more slowly,as the clog of crippled Thomas weighed heavily and more heavily on the march of the expedition,the lost travellers followed the windings of the stream,till they came to a faintly-marked cart-track,branching off nearly at right angles,to the left.After a little consultation it was resolved to follow this dim vestige of a road in the hope that it might lead to some farm or cottage,at which Idle could be left in safety.It was now getting on towards the afternoon,and it was fast becoming more than doubtful whether the party,delayed in their progress as they now were,might not be overtaken by the darkness before the right route was found,and be condemned to pass the night on the mountain,without bit or drop to comfort them,in their wet clothes.
The cart-track grew fainter and fainter,until it was washed out altogether by another little stream,dark,turbulent,and rapid.
The landlord suggested,judging by the colour of the water,that it must be flowing from one of the lead mines in the neighbourhood of Carrock;and the travellers accordingly kept by the stream for a little while,in the hope of possibly wandering towards help in that way.After walking forward about two hundred yards,they came upon a mine indeed,but a mine,exhausted and abandoned;a dismal,ruinous place,with nothing but the wreck of its works and buildings left to speak for it.Here,there were a few sheep feeding.The landlord looked at them earnestly,thought he recognised the marks on them -then thought he did not -finally gave up the sheep in despair -and walked on just as ignorant of the whereabouts of the party as ever.
The march in the dark,literally as well as metaphorically in the dark,had now been continued for three-quarters of an hour from the time when the crippled Apprentice had met with his accident.Mr.
Idle,with all the will to conquer the pain in his ankle,and to hobble on,found the power rapidly failing him,and felt that another ten minutes at most would find him at the end of his last physical resources.He had just made up his mind on this point,and was about to communicate the dismal result of his reflections to his companions,when the mist suddenly brightened,and begun to lift straight ahead.In another minute,the landlord,who was in advance,proclaimed that he saw a tree.Before long,other trees appeared -then a cottage -then a house beyond the cottage,and a familiar line of road rising behind it.Last of all,Carrock itself loomed darkly into view,far away to the right hand.The party had not only got down the mountain without knowing how,but had wandered away from it in the mist,without knowing why -away,far down on the very moor by which they had approached the base of Carrock that morning.
The happy lifting of the mist,and the still happier discovery that the travellers had groped their way,though by a very roundabout direction,to within a mile or so of the part of the valley in which the farm-house was situated,restored Mr.Idle's sinking spirits and reanimated his failing strength.While the landlord ran off to get the dog-cart,Thomas was assisted by Goodchild to the cottage which had been the first building seen when the darkness brightened,and was propped up against the garden wall,like an artist's lay figure waiting to be forwarded,until the dog-cart should arrive from the farm-house below.In due time -and a very long time it seemed to Mr.Idle -the rattle of wheels was heard,and the crippled Apprentice was lifted into the seat.As the dog-cart was driven back to the inn,the landlord related an anecdote which he had just heard at the farm-house,of an unhappy man who had been lost,like his two guests and himself,on Carrock;who had passed the night there alone;who had been found the next morning,'scared and starved;'and who never went out afterwards,except on his way to the grave.Mr.Idle heard this sad story,and derived at least one useful impression from it.Bad as the pain in his ankle was,he contrived to bear it patiently,for he felt grateful that a worse accident had not befallen him in the wilds of Carrock.
