The twilight came upon him, then the night-fall. At last, with a smothered cry of delight on his lips, he saw the gleam of a light. He had come to the farm-house where he had stopped to return the English dandy’s horse and to eat his last supper. Thinking thereby to disguise himself, even if only slightly, he halted, threw off his leather jerkin, sword and coat, turned the latter inside out and concealed his weapon and outside garment in the brush. Thus altered in appearance, he dragged his aching foot across the space between the woods and the house, where he knocked upon the door and entered.
“Who’s there?” cried the farmer, in a fright which recent events had instilled in his being. He was a shaking old bachelor, suspected by many who knew him of being a miser with a great horde of gold on his premises.
Adam was confronted by the man, as soon as he stepped across the threshold.
“Food, man,” he said, hoarsely. “Food, or this child will die!”
The man recognized him instantly. He fairly quaked with dread.
“Go out! Go out!” he cried. “I’ve no food here—I’ve nothing here!”
“Peace!” commanded Adam. “Bring me forth something to eat for the child, you knave, or I shall find it for myself.”
He looked terrible enough to execute a much more dreadful threat. The farmer retreated before him, cringing and whining.
“I have nothing, or you should have it,” he said, with a whimper. “My neighbors—ten minutes’ walk up the clearing—go to them. They have plenty, and I have nothing.”
Adam remembered the scantiness of the fare he had tasted here before. Nevertheless it had been food, and anything now might save his little partner’s life.