"Will you read the letter, sir, because I have left the missus in the wood out yonder," he answered shortly, adding, "We have travelled all the way from London, and shall be glad to have a roof over our heads."
Jessie twisted herself round, looked at the man, then rose, saying quickly:
"There is no room in this village, and no inn; you must go farther on to Dearham."
The man looked at her, a queer smile lighting up his rugged face.
"There be the Holt, missie, I ween."
"The Holt!" exclaimed Jessie; "people don't go to the Holt, do they, Father?"
During this conversation the vicar was reading the letter which had been given to him. It consisted of four pages of close writing, and the vicar's face changed more than once while he was mastering its contents.
When he had finished he laid the letter down and rested his head in his hands.
"Well, sir?" said the man anxiously.
"I will go back with you, my man," he said.