As they turned the corner of Jubilee Terrace they saw, by the light of the street lamp, that a man was standing on Mrs. Berryman's doorstep. He moved off as they approached, and met them.
"Excuse me," he said, addressing Mr. Jones; "can you tell me if Mrs. Berryman lives at No. 2?"
"Yes," Mr. Jones assented, "she does."
"Ah, then I was rightly informed! I've knocked at the door several times, but I can't make anyone hear. Perhaps, as it is getting late, I'd better go back to the town and come again to-morrow."
So saying the man, who was tall and of respectable appearance, walked away.
"Now, I wonder who that is," said Mr. Jones. "I don't know him, and yet it seemed to me I'd heard his voice before. I expect your grandmother heard him knocking right enough, eh, Melina?"
"Oh yes," Melina agreed; "but she wouldn't go to the door because it's late, and she'd be afraid he was a robber."
"A robber!" echoed Mr. Jones in astonishment, adding, "Why, I should never have guessed Mrs. Berryman was the sort of woman to be nervous like that! We'll wait and see you get admission, anyway."
Apparently Mrs. Berryman had been watching for the return of the excursionists from her parlour window, for before Mr. Jones had time to knock, she opened the door. The passage of the cottage was in darkness, so that he could not see her face, but he heard by the thickness of her speech immediately she spoke that she was not quite sober.
"So you've brought my granddaughter back at last," she said; "I hope she's behaved herself."