That word "sponger" as it came to Dan caused him to straighten himself up and step forward more quickly. He was not a sponger now. His face flushed at Farrington's insult. He would show the whole world that he could pay for his keep, and if he could not do it in one way, he would in another.
That night no friendly haystack stood by the road-side, but over there in the field he saw a barn near a farm-house. He could find shelter in that. Waiting until it was dark, he crept cautiously through a small sheep door, and entered. He heard in another part of the building the cattle munching the last of their evening meal. It was good to know that they were near, and that he was not altogether alone. As he threw himself upon a small bunch of straw which he found as he felt around with his hands, a great feeling of loneliness came over him. He longed for the Rectory and a glimpse of Nellie's face. Was she thinking of him, he wondered, or had she forgotten him, and believed him to be an ungrateful scamp? He clenched his hands, and the blood surged to his face as he thought of it. No, he would show her he was not a scamp, but a real man. Oh, she should know what he could do!
Thinking thus he found himself no longer in the barn, but back again at the Rectory. He could see the fire burning brightly on the hearth, and a number of people standing around. They were all looking upon him, and he saw the doctor there, too. But Nellie's face riveted his attention. She was gazing upon him with such a deep look of love. And yet it did not seem altogether like Nellie, and, when she spoke, it was a different voice. Suddenly a strange sound fell upon his ears. The room at the Rectory faded, and in ita stead there was the rough barn floor, and the bunch of straw on which he was lying. For an instant he gazed around him in a bewildered manner. He could not realize just where he was. A childish laugh caused him to turn his head, and there looking in at him from a small door to the left was a little maiden, with curly, auburn hair and cheeks twin sisters to the rosiest apples that ever grew.
"Oo azy ittle boy!" she cried, clapping her hands. "Oo must det up. Turn, daddy, tee azy, azy ittle boy."
Presently there appeared at her side, a large man, holding a pail in his left hand.
"What is it, dearie?" he asked. "What's all the fun and chattering about?"
"Tee, tee, azy boy," and she pointed with a fat little finger to the corner of the barn floor.
By this time Dan had leaped to his feet, and stood confronting the man. He felt that he was a trespasser, and perhaps he would be punished. But as he looked into the big man's eyes he read with the instinct of a wild animal that he had nothing to fear, for only pity shone in those clear, grey depths.
"Did you sleep there all night?" the man asked, pointing to the straw.
"Yes, sir," was the reply. "I hope you're not cross."