There was a pause; and then, as enlightenment came, Alderbury said in a low voice:
"So then, you were young William?"
"The sweeper carried me wrapped in a sheet; for I could neither walk nor stand. It was between two and three o'clock in the morning when I was hoisted on to his back in a half unconscious state, my senses too stupefied to feel much pain, and I was taken to the college house. Mrs. Hulver was roused from her sleep by the sweeper woman—who works there, and is a relative of the man—and I was handed over to the housekeeper. I have since called her mother, so good and kind has she been to me. Under her care I recovered."
"And through her good offices you have come to me. How did you get here? By train?"
"No, sir; I came in your own cart and brought my luggage with me," replied Ananda. He continued his story. "When the sweeper found that I did not turn up as I promised at the little station, he carried the bundles back to his own house and came hot-foot to learn the reason of my failure to keep the appointment. There he found me in that sorry plight."
"I am still puzzled," said Alderbury after a little thought. "Mrs. Hulver's son was seen by Miss Wenaston lying on the cot in her sitting-room; and he was wearing uniform, the uniform of the regiment."
"When I regained consciousness in her room, I found myself dressed in the uniform that belonged to her son's father. She had kept it, and though it was very old and a loose fit, it served as an excellent disguise."
"She is a wonderful woman!"
"The kindest! the best!"
Ananda stopped with sudden emotion, his heart too full for words.