Mr. Robin and Stephen's father looked at each other.
"So you sleep in the old church, do you?" said Mr. Robin.
"Yes," said the old man. "I've slept there about a year now. You won't tell of me, will you? I've nowhere else to go but to the house, and I don't do a bit of harm—not a bit I don't."
"How do you get in?" asked Granny Robin.
"Through the vestry-window," he said. "It hasn't a lock on it. But I couldn't climb up this afternoon; I turned faint and dizzy-like. I fell down quite stupid, and when I came to my senses it was raining fast; I thought I was going to die—I did indeed."
"Then that was the light we saw in the church—me and Stephen!" cried Audrey.
"Did you see it?" said the old man piteously. "Don't tell of me—don't!"
"How do you get your living?" asked Granny Robin.
"I sit under the railway-bridge and play my fiddle," said the old man. "I must have dropped my fiddle, I think," he said, as he felt for it with his trembling hands. "It'll be on the grass outside somewhere; and I get a few coppers—a very few coppers indeed. They buy me a bit of food, but I've none left for lodgings—not a penny, I haven't."
"So you sleep in the old church! Isn't it very damp?" asked Aunt Cordelia.