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. 'Tis right enough, seeing the farm will be
yours when she be put under earth. I've had a fire lit in
your room, Master Tom, and the maids has put fresh sheets on
to the bed. You'll find nought changed up there. Maybe
you'm tired and would like to go there now.''
Without a word Martin Stoner rose heavily to his feet and
followed his ministering angel along a passage, up a short
creaking stair, along another passage, and into a large room
lit with a cheerfully blazing fire.
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