ng
with his elbows on the parapet, and staring out up the long reach of the
stream to the purple evening moors against the sky and the luminous
glory itself; and as he came opposite him, wondered vaguely who it was
and whether he knew him. Then, as he got just opposite him, he stopped,
uneasy at heart.

* * * * *

Naturally Frank was never very far away from Jack's thoughts just
now--ever since, indeed, he had heard the news in a very discreet letter
from the Reverend James Launton a week or two ago. (I need not say he
had answered this letter, not to the father, but to the daughter, but
had received no reply.)

He had written a frantic letter to Frank himself then, but it had been
returned, marked: "Unknown at this address." And ever since he had eyed
all tramps on the road with an earnestness that elicited occasionally a
salute, and occasionally an impolite remark.

The figure whose back he saw now certainly was not much like Frank; but
then--again--it was rather like him. It was dressed in a jacket and
trousers so stained with dust and wet as to have no color of their own
at all, and a cloth cap of the same appearance. A bundle tied up in a
red handkerchief, and a heavy stick, rested propped against an angle of
the recess.

Jack cleared his throat rather loud and stood still, prepared to be
admiring the view, in case of necessity; the figure turned an eye over
its shoulder, then faced completely round; and it was Frank Guiseley.

Jack for the first instant said nothing at all, but stood transfixed,
with his mouth a little open and his eyes staring. Frank's face was
sunburned almost beyond recognition, his hair seemed cut shorter than
usual, and the light was behind him.

Then Jack recovered.

"My dear man," he said, "why the--"

He seized him by the hands and held him, staring at him.

"Yes; it's me all right," said Frank. "I was just wondering--"

"Come along, instantly.... Damn! I've got to go to a tobacconist's; it's
only just here. There isn't a cigarette in the house. Come with me?"

"I'll wait here," said Frank.

"Will you? I shan't be a second."

It was, as a matter of fact, scarcely one minute before Jack was back;
he had darted in, snatched a box from the shelf and vanished, crying out
to "put it down to him." He found Frank had faced round again and was
staring at the water and sky and high moors. He snatched up his friend's
bundle and stick.

"Come along,"