ped into his shoes, an'
therefore I've a right to spake'" (he pulled at his churchwarden),
"'to spake to 'ee'" (another pull) "'like a father.'" Here followed
several pulls in quick succession.

The pipe had gone out. So, still holding the attention of the room, he
reached out a hand towards the tongs. Prudy, anticipating his
necessity, caught them up, dived them into the blaze, and drawing out a
blazing end of stick, held it over the pipe while he sucked away.

During this pause a heavy step was heard in the passage. The door was
pushed open, and a tall man, in dripping cloak and muddy boots, stalked
into the room.

It was the man they had been discussing.

"A dirty night, friends, and a cold ride from Plymouth." He shook the
water out of his hat over the sanded floor. "I'll take a pull at
something hot, if you please."

Every one looked at him. Prudy, forgetting what she was about, waved
the hot brand to and fro under Old Zeb's nose, stinging his eyes with
smoke. Between confusion and suffocation, his face was a study.

"You seem astonished, all of you. May I ask why?"

"To tell 'ee the truth, young man," said Prudy, "'twas a case of 'talk
of the devil an' you'll see his horns.'"

"Indeed. You were speaking good of me, I hope."

"Which o' your ears is burning?"

"Both."

"Then it shu'd be the left ear only. Old Zeb, here--"

"Hush 'ee now, Prudy!" implored the crowder.

"--Old Zeb here," continued Prudy, relentlessly, "was only a-sayin', as
you walked in, that he'd read you the Riot Act afore you was many days
older. He's mighty fierce wi' your goin's on, I 'sure 'ee."

"Is that so, Mr. Minards?"

Mr. Minards had, it is probable, never felt so uncomfortable in all his
born days, and the experience of standing between two fires was new to
him. He looked from the stranger around upon the company, and was met
on all hands by the same expectant stare.

"Well, you see--" he began, and looked around again. The faces were
inexorable. "I declare, friends, the pore chap is drippin' wet. Sich a
tiresome v'yage, too, as it must ha' been from Plymouth, i' this
weather! I dunno how we came to forget to invite en nigher the hearth.
Well, as I was a-sayin'--"

He stopped to search for his hat beneath the settle. Producing a large
crimson handkerchief from the crown, he mopped his brow slowly.

"The cur'ous part o't, naybours, is the sweatiness that comes over a
man, this close weather."

"I'