The kitchen at the farm was in reality a sitting-room, and a very jolly, cosy one it was; nor did the fire seem a bit out of place to-night.
It took Ransey quite a long time to tell all his adventures, and dilate upon the kindness of his visitors, especially rough but kindly Captain Weathereye.
It was almost dark before they got to the little cot at the foot of the hill that they called their home; and here a fresh surprise awaited them, for a light was shining through the little window, and through the half-open door as well.
Babs herself was the first, I believe, to notice this.
“O ’Ansey,” she cried, struggling with excitement on the boy’s back, “O ’Ansey, look! fazer (father) has tomed! Be twick, ’Ansey, be twick.”
And Ransey quickened his pace now, while Bob ran on in front.
“Wowff, wowff,” he barked, “wowff—wowff—wow!” But it was in a half-hysterical kind of way, as if there were a tear of joy mixed up with it, joy at the hope of seeing a kind old master again.
Even the crane felt it his bounden duty to indulge in an extra hop or two, and to shout, “Scray—scray—scray—ay—ay!”
It was the Admiral’s voice that caused honest Tom Tandy to get up from his chair, lay down his pipe, and hurry to the door.