The old man's eyes were closed, and he took no notice of them as they bent over him. Mr. Robin took hold of his hand, and it was cold as ice; then he felt his threadbare clothes, and these were wet through with the rain, and so was his old red scarf, which he had untied, and which was lying beside him on the grass.
"I think he is dying, Audrey," said Mr. Robin gravely.
But just then the old man opened his eyes, and said in a trembling voice—
"Don't tell of me—don't let them lock me up! I didn't do no harm to nobody."
"We'll take him to the fire," said Mr. Robin. "Go and get Stephen's father to help me, Audrey; he'll be in by now."
Very gently the two men carried him through the churchyard, whilst Audrey went before them with the candle. They took him into Mr. Robin's house, and put him in Granny Robin's arm-chair before a blazing fire. Then Audrey went to tell Aunt Cordelia, and to ask her to come and help them.
The kettle was soon boiled, and they gave him some hot tea, and then the colour came back a little into his ashen face, and he said—
"Thank you. I'm better now. You won't tell of me—will you?"
"What is there to tell?" asked Mr. Robin.
"You won't tell of me sleeping in the old church. I don't do no hurt to anybody."