As the man looked up at Philip in a dazed and uncertain manner, Philip said slowly:
"You're not hurt badly, I hope. Why did you attack me?"
The man seemed too bewildered to answer. Philip leaned over and put one arm about him to help him rise. He struggled to his feet, and almost instantly sat down on the curb at the side of the road, holding his head between his hands. For a moment Philip hesitated. Then he sat down beside him, and after finding out that he was not seriously hurt, succeeded in drawing him into a conversation which grew more and more remarkable as it went on. As he thought back upon it afterward, Philip was unable to account exactly for the way in which the confidence between him and his assailant had been brought about. The incident and all that flowed out of it had such a bearing on the crucifixion that it belongs to the whole story.
"Then you say," went on Philip after they had been talking brief in question and answer for a few minutes, "you say that you meant to rob me, taking me for another man?"
"Yes, I thought you was the mill-man—what is his name?—Winter."
"Why did you want to rob him?"
The man looked up and said hoarsely, almost savagely, "Because he has money and I was hungry."
"How long have you been hungry?"
"I have not had anything to eat for almost three days."
"There is food to be had at the Poor Commissioners. Did you know that fact?"