He was ill, though he had scarcely realized that fact.

He took many a rest.
Daylight faded, and once more the night came on, but still the brave young dalesman held to his purpose.

The snow had become crisp and easier to the foot, but the way was long and the wayfarer was sick at heart.
Morning came at last, and when the mists had risen above the meadows, Robbie saw before him, nigh at hand, the ancient city of Carlisle.

A presentiment that he came too late took the joy out of the long-expected sight.
Was the sky gloomy?
Did a storm threaten?
Were the murmuring rivers and the roaring ghylls telling to Robbie's ear the hopeless tale that lay cold and silent at his heart?
No! The sun arose and sparkled over the white landscape.

It thawed the stiff boughs of the trees, and the snow dropped from them in gracious drops like dew.