"Be you the straanger?" he said.
"What do you mean?" I asked; "and who are you?"
"Be you the straanger wot d'live in Father Abram's 'ut?" The man's voice was thick, and his enunciation anything but clear.
"That seems remarkably like my own business," I replied.
"Be you the straanger wot d'live in Father Abram's 'ut?" He repeated the words almost feverishly, and his voice trembled.
"What if I am?" I asked.
"Then go away! Go away!"
"Why should I?"
"Ca'ant tell 'ee."
"But why should I go away? Who are you?"