, he saw two men and a cart. They were soon obscured
by the intervention of a high hedge. Just before they emerged again he
heard voices in conversation.

''A must soon be in the naibourhood, too, if so be he's a-coming,'
said a tenor tongue, which Stephen instantly recognized as Martin
Cannister's.

''A must 'a b'lieve,' said another voice--that of Stephen's father.

Stephen stepped forward, and came before them face to face. His father
and Martin were walking, dressed in their second best suits, and beside
them rambled along a grizzel horse and brightly painted spring-cart.

'All right, Mr. Cannister; here's the lost man!' exclaimed young Smith,
entering at once upon the old style of greeting. 'Father, here I am.'

'All right, my sonny; and glad I be for't!' returned John Smith,
overjoyed to see the young man. 'How be ye? Well, come along home, and
don't let's bide out here in the damp. Such weather must be terrible bad
for a young chap just come from a fiery nation like Indy; hey, naibour
Cannister?'

'Trew, trew. And about getting home his traps? Boxes, monstrous bales,
and noble packages of foreign description, I make no doubt?'

'Hardly all that,' said Stephen laughing.

'We brought the cart, maning to go right on to Castle Boterel afore ye
landed,' said his father. '"Put in the horse," says Martin. "Ay," says
I, "so we will;" and did it straightway. Now, maybe, Martin had better
go on wi' the cart for the things, and you and I walk home-along.'

'And I shall be back a'most as soon as you. Peggy is a pretty step
still, though time d' begin to tell upon her as upon the rest o' us.'

Stephen told Martin where to find his baggage, and then continued his
journey homeward in the company of his father.

'Owing to your coming a day sooner than we first expected,' said John,
'you'll find us in a turk of a mess, sir--"sir," says I to my own son!
but ye've gone up so, Stephen. We've killed the pig this morning for
ye, thinking ye'd be hungry, and glad of a morsel of fresh mate. And 'a
won't be cut up till to-night. However, we can make ye a good supper
of fry, which will chaw up well wi' a dab o' mustard and a few nice new
taters, and a drop of shilling ale to wash it down. Your mother have
scrubbed the house through because ye were coming, and dusted all
the chimmer furniture, and bought a new basin and jug of a travelling
crockery-woman that came to our door, and scoured the cannel-sticks, and
claned the winde