He got into the carriage, and sat in the far corner, hiding himself from notice as well as he could. The weary train--(it carried poor people for the most part, so, of course it could matter but little how tedious or slow it was!)--the weary train, stopping at every station, and often waiting on the rail until it had been passed by trains that started four or five hours after it,--dragged its slow course through the fair counties of England. Many people got in and out of the carriage, which was generally full, and some of them tried occasionally to enter into conversation with him. But poor Eric was too sick and tired, and his heart was too full to talk much, and he contented himself with civil answers to the questions put to him, dropping the conversation as soon as he could. At six in the evening the train stopped at Charlesbury, and he got down. “Ticket,” said the station-man. Eric gave it, turning his head away, for the man knew him well from having often seen him there. It was no use; the man looked hard at him, and then, opening his eyes wide, exclaimed, “Well, I never! what, Master Williams of Fairholm, can that be you?” “Hush, John, hush! yes, I am Eric Williams. But don’t say a word, that’s a good fellow; I’m going on to Ayrton this evening.” “Well, sir, I _am_, hurt like to see you looking so ragged and poorly. Let me give you a bed to-night, and send you on by first train to-morrow.” “O no, thank you, John. I’ve got no money, and--” “Tut, tut, sir; I thought you’d know me better nor that. Proud I’d be any day to do anything for Mrs. Trevor’s nephew, let alone a young gentleman like you. Well, then, let me drive you, sir, in my little cart this evening.” “No, thank you, John, never mind; you are very, very good, but,” he said, and the tears were in his eyes, “I want to walk in alone to-night.” “Well, God keep and bless you, sir,” said the man, “for you look to need it;” and touching his cap, he watched the boy’s painful walk across some fields to the main road. “Who’d ha’ thought it, Jenny?” he said to his wife. “There’s that young Master Williams, whom we’ve always thought so noble like, just been here as ragged as ragged, and with a face the color o’ my white signal flag.” “Lawks!” said the woman; “well, well! poor young gentleman, I’m afeard he’s been doing something bad.”