The door, pushed wide open by the person without, revealed a handsome old man, lithe and upright still,--whose hair was pure white, and his brown eyes quick and radiant. He marched in and seated himself upon the settle, grasping a stout oaken stick in both hands, and gazing up into the Rector's face. His dress, no less than his manners, showed that notwithstanding the blunt and eccentric nature of his greeting, he was by birth a gentleman. "And wherein hold you not with me, Sir, I pray you?" inquired Mr Tremayne with some amusement. "In your tolerating of evil opinion." "I cry you mercy. What evil opinion have I tolerated?" "If you will tolerate men which hold evil opinions, you must needs tolerate evil opinion." "I scantly see that." "Maybe you see this?" demanded the stranger, pulling a well-worn Bible from a capacious pocket. "My sight is sharp enough for so much," returned Mr Tremayne good-naturedly. "Well, and I tell you," said the stranger, poising the open Bible between his hands, "there is no such word as toleration betwixt the two backs of this book!" The two backs of the book were brought together, by way of emphasising the assertion, with a bang which might almost have been heard to the parsonage. "There is no such _word_, I grant you." "No, Sir!--and there is no such thing." "That hangeth, I take it, on what the word is held to signify." "Shall I tell you what it signifieth?" "Pray you, so do." "Faint-heartedness, Sir!--weakness--recreancy--cowardliness--shamedness of the truth!" "An ill-sounding list of names," said Mr Tremayne quietly. "And one of none whereof I would by my good-will be guilty.--Pray you, whom have I the honour to discourse withal?" "A very pestilent heretic, that Queen Mary should have burned, and forgat." "She did not that with many," was the significant answer. "She did rare like to it with a lad that I knew in King Edward's days, whose name was Robin Tremayne." "Master Underhill, my dear old friend!" cried the Rector, grasping his visitor's hand warmly. "I began these two minutes back to think I should know those brown eyes, but I might not set a name thereto all at once." "Ha! the `pestilent heretic' helped thee to it, I reckon!" replied the guest laughing. "Ay, Robin, this is he thou knewest of old time. We will fight out our duello another time, lad. I am rare glad to see thee so well-looking." "From what star dropped you, Master Underhill? or what fair wind blew you hither?" "I am dropped out of Warwickshire, lad, if that be a star; and I came hither of a galloway's back (but if he were the wind, 'twas on the stillest night of the year!) And how goes it with Mrs Thekla? I saw her last in her bride's gear." "She will be rarely glad to see you, old friend; and so, I warrant you, will our mother, Mistress Rose. Will you take the pain to go with me to mine house?--where I will ensure you of a good bed and a rare welcome."