“There,” said Phillip, surveying Bob, “those clothes will make a man of you.”
“Mine alter your looks very much,” said Bob, laughing.
“Never mind that, my boy. I can afford to play such queer pranks, for I am rich. It will take my father quite by surprise to see me dressed in this manner.”
“And so it will mine when I go again.”
“Why not go to-night? Come, cheer up; put this purse in your pocket, and have a pull at my brandy flask; it will cheer you up. Go to him at once; he can’t be always angry with you.”
The stranger’s words were so kind and encouraging that, after he had galloped off, Bob determined to go boldly to his father’s house, and demand a lodging for the night.
The stranger’s brandy had aroused him, and made him feel rather flattered with his altered and gentlemanly appearance.
Thinking thus, he walked across the fields towards Four Ash Farm; but as he approached the dwelling he felt a sense of deep depression from some unknown cause—a feeling of chilliness and fear took possession of him.
He walked boldly up to the back door, however, and found it wide open.
Instead of the dogs joyfully yelping when he approached them, they rushed at him to the full length of their chains, howling most dismally.