or, and dead and lustreless. No! he
could not meet Wildney as a sick and ragged sailor-boy; perhaps even he
might not be recognised if he did. He drew back, and hid himself till
the merry-hearted pair had passed, and it was almost with a pang of
jealousy that he saw how happy Wildney could be, while _he_ was thus;
but he cast aside the unworthy thought at once. "After all, how is poor
Charlie to know what has happened to me?"

CHAPTER XIII

HOME AT LAST

"I will arise and go to my father."

"Ach! ein Schicksal droht,
Und es droht nicht lange!
Auf der holden Wange
Brennt ein boeses Roth!"--TIEDGE.

Eric Williams pursued his disconsolate way to the station, and found
that his money only just sufficed to get him something to eat during the
day, and carry him third class by the parliamentary train to
Charlesbury, the little station where he had to take the branch line
to Ayrton.

He got into the carriage, and sat in the far corner, hiding himself from
notice as well as he could. The weary train--(it carried poor people for
the most part, so, of course it could matter but little how tedious or
slow it was!)--the weary train, stopping at every station, and often
waiting on the rail until it had been passed by trains that started four
or five hours after it,--dragged its slow course through the fair
counties of England. Many people got in and out of the carriage, which
was generally full, and some of them tried occasionally to enter into
conversation with him. But poor Eric was too sick and tired, and his
heart was too full to talk much, and he contented himself with civil
answers to the questions put to him, dropping the conversation as soon
as he could.

At six in the evening the train stopped at Charlesbury, and he got down.

"Ticket," said the station-man.

Eric gave it, turning his head away, for the man knew him well from
having often seen him there. It was no use; the man looked hard at him,
and then, opening his eyes wide, exclaimed,

"Well, I never! what, Master Williams of Fairholm, can that be you?"

"Hush, John, hush! yes, I am Eric Williams. But don't say a word, that's
a good fellow; I'm going on to Ayrton this evening."

"Well, sir, I _am_, hurt like to see you looking so ragged and poorly.
Let me give you a bed to-night, and send you on by first train
to-morrow."

"O no, thank you, John. I've got no money, and--"

"Tut, tut, sir; I thought you'd know me better no