When I reached the manor-house I let myself in by a secret way that I knew of and went straight to the great hall, where sat my uncle, Sir Thurstan, wrapped in cloaks and rugs, before a great fire of wood. He was all alone, and hearing my step he half turned his head.
“Is that Jasper?” he inquired.
“Nay, sir,” said I. “It is I—Humphrey—and I am come home again.”
And I went forward and kneeled down before him and put my hands on his knees.
For a moment he stared at me as men stare at ghosts, then he gave a great sob of delight, stretched out his arms, put them about my neck, and wept over me like a woman.
“Oh lad, lad!” said he. “If thou didst but know how this old heart did grieve for thy sake. And thou art here, well and strong, and I did cause thy name to be graven on thy parents’ tombstone!”
“Never mind, sir,” said I, “we can cut it out again. Anyway I am not dead, but I have seen some rare and terrible adventures.”
“Sit thyself down at my side,” quoth he, “and tell me all about them. Alive and well—yes, and two inches taller, as I live! Well, I thank God humbly. But thou art hungry, poor boy,—what ho! where are those rascals? Call for them, Humphrey,—thou must be famished.”
“All in good time, sir,” said I, and went over to the rope which led to the great bell and pulled it vigorously, so that the clangor filled the park below with stirring sound. And Geoffrey Scales, waiting impatiently at the inn, heard it and ran round with the news, and they rang the church bells, and every soul in Beechcot that could walk came hurrying to the manor and would have audience of me in the great hall.