They chatted for some time; then she said: "I had an adventure not long before you arrived."
"Your country has always been full of adventures," he said, smiling.
"And adventurers, but the man who came here to-day was not an adventurer, poor fellow," she said.
He looked at her quickly and she went on.
"I was at the bottom of the garden, near that thick-set hedge, when I heard some one groan. It startled me; some tramp, I thought, and went to the gate. I saw a man sitting by the roadside. He looked up when he saw me, and I shall never forget the suffering in his face, the hunted look in it. I shivered, but I was quite sure he was harmless. I beckoned him; he came, turning his head from time to time in a frightened manner. He said he had tramped many miles, that he was hungry, footsore, weary to death. I took him to the back of the house, gave him something to eat, and offered him money. He refused the money at first, but I insisted and he took it. I gave him one of Dick's old top coats; when he put it on he seemed a different man. I hunted out a pair of old boots—he was very grateful for them. I am sure he was a gentleman; he spoke like one, he expressed himself as such when he left, there was a natural pride about him. He walked in the direction of Torquay; I wonder if you met him on the road."
Picton Woodridge greatly astonished her by asking her the following questions:
"Have you told your brother about this?"
"No."
"Did any one see him?"
"I don't think so. I am almost sure they did not."