e had asked to get
everything in readiness by the time she returned, "we'll have
everything as though we were sure he wur coming 'ome. Nobody shall say
as 'ow I didn't prepare a good dinner for my boy when he returned from
the War."

Thus when Tom had refused the invitation to go to the Rose and Crown,
and declared his intention of going straight home, her joy knew no
bounds.

"Dost 'a' really mean, Tom, as thou'rt coming straight home with thee
feyther and me?"

"Ay, I do," replied Tom, "there's no place but home for me to-day."

"Ay, then I mun kiss thee agean," she sobbed, throwing her arms around
his neck.

Throughout the whole of the afternoon and evening Ezekiel Pollard's
house was besieged with visitors. Reporters came from the newspapers
in order to hear any details which had been missed concerning Tom's
exploits. Relations whom Tom had not seen for years came to bid him
welcome, while the neighbours thronged the doors.

"Ay, it's good to be home again," said Tom, standing on the doorstep
and watching the last visitor depart that night, "I never thought that
it would be like this."

"Art 'a' tired, lad?" asked his father.

"Just a bit," said Tom. "I couldn't sleep last night, I was thinking
all the time about coming home, and now----"

"Ay, lad, I'm proud of thee," said his father for the hundredth time.

"Thou art a fool, lad," said his mother, "but thou'rt noan such a fool
as I feared. Thou'st done vary weel too, vary weel."

"Father," said Tom when they had entered the house and closed the door,
"do you ever pray now?"

"I hadna prayed for years," said Ezekiel Pollard, "till thou went to
the Front, but every night sin' I have asked God to take care o' thee.
I have asked nowt for myself," he added almost proudly. "I didn't
deserve it; but I've asked God to take care o' thee."

"So have I," said his mother. "I never towd anybody about it; I wur a
bit ashamed, I reckon, but I have prayed twenty times a day."

"Then," said Tom, "let us kneel down and thank God for His goodness."

And the three knelt down together.

CHAPTER XI

It was nearly midday when Tom awoke. The church bells had ceased
ringing for nearly an hour, indeed at nearly all the churches the
congregations were being dismissed. The Town Hall clock chimed a
quarter to twelve, but all else seemed strangely silent. Tom rose in
his bed, and rubbed his eyes.

"Where am I?" he gasped; "this is--this is--ay, where am