After we came down, Mrs. Christie lighted the lamp, and we were sitting cosily round the fire talking of my mother, when suddenly there came a knock at the outer door.
'Who can it be?' said Mrs. Christie hastily; 'some one must be ill, I think, so few people come on Sunday.'
She was going to the door, but her little maid had already opened it, and coming into the parlour she announced,—
'There's a gentleman, sir, at the door, says as how he wants Mr. Villiers, sir.'
'A gentleman!' I repeated in astonishment, 'wanting me!'
'Yes, sir, he says he wants you very pertickler, he does.'
I went quickly to the door, wondering very much who could be there, and to my great astonishment I found my friend Tom Bernard, with a black bag in his hand, eagerly awaiting my approach.
'Found at last, old chap,' he cried when he saw me; 'why, I've been hunting for you all over in this rabbit-warren of a place, till at last some of these fisher-lads told me you were in here.'
'And what are you doing here, Tom?' I exclaimed.
'Doing here! Why, I've come to see you, of course, old fellow; what else should I have come for? I set off early this morning, and I thought I would give you a bit of a surprise. Are these your diggings?'