’I came about dark to Boscastle, and I went about and inquired after you, and some sed they didn’t think you was here, and some sed, if I wanted to find you, I must go to the office, you were there mostly, and always of nights; and they gave me directions, and so I came.’ ’But, Joyce, it is now past midnight.’ ’I dare say it be. I couldn’t get in at the door when first I found the little house, and tried, and there was no light in the windows, and I thought you might not be come yet, and I’d wait about a bit. So I waited on the lew side, but the wind were so wild, and the snow drifted, and I were forced to go away. But I came again after a while, and still the door were fast. So then I thought I’d go and find a haystack or a linney, where I might sleep, and I’d come again in the morning. But I rambled about for miles, and never found nothing of a place where I might lie. I got to one house, where there were lights in the windows, but a dog began to bark, and I were feared he might bite me as Farmer Freeze’s dog had bitten and tore me—you mind that time as I hearkened to the hooddoo,—so I didn’t venture into the shippon but comed away, and then I don’t know exactly where and for how long I wandered about, but at last I saw a light here, and I found my way back to the office, but I had rare tumbles and climbings over walls and into ditches. However, I have found you here to last, dear maister, and I be glad, I be glad.’ ’Good heavens, Joyce! is all this true?’ ’Sure-ly. Did I ever tell you a lie?’ ’Since when have you been afoot?’ ’I started afore light, I reckon about five o’clock.’ ’My poor, poor Joyce!’ ’I be none so poor now. See my stockings and shoes! And do’y look here what a sight o’ brave clothes I have, as Miss Cicely gave me.’ ’Have you had anything to eat?’ ’Sure. A woman at a cottage gave me some bread and a bowl of skimmed milk.’ ’When?’ ’I reckon at noon.’ ’Twelve hours ago. Have you had nothing since?’ ’No; I couldn’t wait when I comed to Boscastle, I were that longing to get on and find you.’ ’Joyce, you must be starving.’ He sprang up and went to the cupboard, the same whence he had taken the bullet. A week ago he had a loaf and some cheese there. The bread was stale, but still it was edible. He brought it out, with the cheese and a knife. ’Joyce, off with these soaking shoes and stockings. Sit down at the table and eat what you can. I will get you something warmed over the fire to drink as quickly as I can.’ The thought of what Joyce had gone through distracted his attention from his own misery. There were others in the world beside Mirelle, others demanding his consideration and sympathy. ’The Squire be took cruel bad,’ said Joyce, ’and Miss Cicely be very desirous to see you, and that you should come to the Squire. There be Upaver mine. Squire have a looked after things so long as he could, but there be nobody to do that now.’ ’What is the matter with Mr. Battishill?’