Was ever a man more fortunate or more free?
Tibby was told that he was going off for a week or two.

No letters need be forwarded, for he would be constantly moving, but Mrs.McCunn at the Neuk Hydropathic would be kept informed of his whereabouts.
Presently he stood on his doorstep, a stocky figure in ancient tweeds, with a bulging pack slung on his arm, and a stout hazel stick in his hand.

A passer-by would have remarked an elderly shopkeeper bent apparently on a day in the country, a common little man on a prosaic errand.

But the passer-by would have been wrong, for he could not see into the heart.

The plump citizen was the eternal pilgrim; he was Jason, Ulysses, Eric the Red, Albuquerque, Cortez--starting out to discover new worlds.
Before he left Mr.McCunn had given Tibby a letter to post.