arm-house at
the further end of the garden looked chill and inhospitable. A
drizzling rain, however, was setting in, and Stoner thought that here
perhaps he might obtain a few minutes' shelter and buy a glass of milk
with his last remaining coin. He turned slowly and wearily into the
garden and followed a narrow, flagged path up to a side door. Before
he had time to knock the door opened and a bent, withered-looking old
man stood aside in the doorway as though to let him pass in.

"Could I come in out of the rain?" Stoner began, but the old man
interrupted him.

"Come in, Master Tom. I knew you would come back one of these days."

Stoner lurched across the threshold and stood staring uncomprehendingly
at the other.

"Sit down while I put you out a bit of supper," said the old man with
quavering eagerness. Stoner's legs gave way from very weariness, and
he sank inertly into the arm-chair that had been pushed up to him. In
another minute he was devouring the cold meat, cheese, and bread, that
had been placed on the table at his side.

"You'm little changed these four years," went on the old man, in a
voice that sounded to Stoner as something in a dream, far away and
inconsequent; "but you'll find us a deal changed, you will. There's no
one about the place same as when you left; nought but me and your old
Aunt. I'll go and tell her that you'm come; she won't be seeing you,
but she'll let you stay right enough. She always did say if you was to
come back you should stay, but she'd never set eyes on you or speak to
you again."

The old man placed a mug of beer on the table in front of Stoner and
then hobbled away down a long passage. The drizzle of rain had changed
to a furious lashing downpour, which beat violently against door and
windows. The wanderer thought with a shudder of what the sea-shore
must look like under this drenching rainfall, with night beating down
on all sides. He finished the food and beer and sat numbly waiting for
the return of his strange host. As the minutes ticked by on the
grandfather clock in the corner a new hope began to flicker and grow in
the young man's mind; it was merely the expansion of his former craving
for food and a few minutes' rest into a longing to find a night's
shelter under this seemingly hospitable roof. A clattering of
footsteps down the passage heralded the old farm servant's return.

"The old missus won't see you, Master Tom, but she says you are to
stay.