“I admit, sir, that the question is natural,” replied Dick, suiting his tone and manner to those of the old man. “I have scarcely had time yet to form a purpose, but, since the danger of contamination of which we spoke still exists, it occurs to me that perhaps I might stay here a while. Is there some nook or a cover in which I might rest? I hope I do not trespass too much upon your hospitality.”
Colonel Woodville pondered. His great white eyebrows were drawn together and, for a moment or two, he gazed down the beak of his nose.
“I confess,” he said, “that the appeal to hospitality moves me. I am stirred somewhat, too, by pleasant recollections of the lad who looked like you. But wait, my daughter is coming. We will confer with her. Margaret is a most capable woman.”
Dick heard a light step in the passage and he wheeled quickly. Miss Woodville was before him, a plain, elderly figure in a plain black dress, with a basket on her arm. The basket contained a fowl and some eggs which she had just bought at a great price. When she saw Dick her hand flew to her throat, but when the pulse ceased to beat so hard it came away and she looked at him fixedly. Then a slow smile like the dawn spread over the severe, worn face.
“Come in, Margaret, and put down your basket,” said the colonel in a genial tone. “Meanwhile bid welcome to our unexpected guest, a young man of spirit and quality with whom I was holding converse before you came. He does not wish to go out to-night, because there are many violent men abroad, and he would avoid them.”
Then he turned to Dick, and asked in a tone, sharp and commanding:
“I have your word, young sir, that your unexpected visit to our city was not of a secret nature; that is, it was not of a lawless character?”
“An accident, sir, an accident pure and simple. I answer you on my honor. I have seen nothing and I shall not seek to see anything which I should not see.”
“Margaret,” continued the colonel, and now his tone became deferential as behooved a gentleman speaking to a lady, “shall we ask him to share our simple quarters to-night?”
The lad slowly turned his gaze to the face of the woman. He felt with all the power of intuition that his fate rested on her decision. But she was a woman. And she was, too, a true daughter of her father. A kindred spark leaped up in her own soul, and she met Dick’s gaze. She noted his fearless poise, and she saw the gallant spirit in his eye. Then she turned to her father.
“I think you wish him to stay, sir,” she said, “and the wish seems right to me. Our narrow quarters limit our hospitality in quality, but not in intent. We can offer him nothing but the little alcove behind the blanket.”
She inclined her head toward the blanket, which Dick had not noticed before. It hung near the bed and, wishing to cause this household little trouble, he said:
“Then I assume that you will shelter me for the night, and, if I may, I will go at once to my room.”
Colonel Woodville lowered his head upon the pillow and laughed softly.
“A lad of spirit. A lad of spirit, I repeat,” he said. “No, Margaret, you and I could not have turned him from our earthen roof.”
Dick bowed to Miss Woodville, and that little ghost of a tender smile flitted about her thin lips. Then he lifted the blanket, stepped into the dark, and let the curtain fall behind him.
He stood for a space until his eyes, used to the dusk, could see dimly. It was a tiny room evidently used as a place of storage for clothing and bedding, but there was space enough for him to lie down, if he bent his knees a little.
The strain upon both muscle and nerve had been very great, and now came collapse. Removing his shoes and outer clothing he dropped upon a roll of bedding and closed his eyes. But he was grateful, deeply and lastingly grateful. The bread that he had cast upon the waters was returning to him fourfold.