eling came over the boy that he had been
here or somewhere like it before, and he was fascinated, wondering what
next would happen. A tall old clock in the lobby, whose pendulum swung
so slowly that at first he had never realised its presence, at last
took advantage of the silence and swung itself into his notice with a
tick-tack. The silence seemed to thicken and press upon his ears;
no striving after fancy could bring the boy far enough off from that
strange convention, and try as he might to realise himself back in
his familiar places by the riverside at Ladyfield, the wings of his
imagining failed in their flight and he tumbled again into that austere
parlour sitting with two men utterly beyond his comprehension.

There was, at last, one sound that gave a little comfort, and checked
the tears that had begun to gather on the edges of his eyes. It came
from the direction of the kitchen; it was a creaking of the wooden
stairs; it was a faint shuffle of slippers in the lobby; then there was
a hush outside the door deeper even than the stillness within. Gilian
knew, as if he could see through the brown panelling, that a woman was
standing out there listening with her breath caught up and wondering
at the quiet within, yet afraid to open a door upon the mystery. The
brothers did not observe it; all this was too faint for their old ears,
though plainly heard by a child of the fields whose ear against the
grass could detect the marching of insects and the tunnelling of worms.
But for that he would have screamed--but for the magic air of friendship
and sympathy that flowed to him through chink and keyhole from the good
heart loud-beating outside; in that kind air of fond companionship (even
with a door between) there was comfort. In a little the slippers sped
back along the lobby, the stair creaked, in the lower flat a door
slammed. Gilian felt himself more deserted and friendless than ever, and
a few moments more would have found him break upon the appalling still
with sobs of cowardly surrender, but the church bell rang. It was the
first time he had heard its evening clamour, that, however far it might
search up the glens, never reached Lady-field, so deep among the hills,
and he had no more than recovered from the bewildering influence of its
unexpected alarm when the foot of the Paymaster sounded heavily on the
stair.

"You're here at last," said the Cornal, without looking at him.

"I was a thought later than I intend