I had been to the little hamlet near the church to visit and comfort a poor young thing dying of a waste. My mind was so full of what I had seen that I took the wrong turning, and found myself all of a sudden close in front of the ruined cell, with the sun setting and a sudden hard shower beginning to fall. Still I did not really take a sense of my position, but seeing that the deep porch was the only shelter near, I fled under it to avoid the rain which promised to be of short duration, as the sun was already shining. I was never a coward, and the poor little chapel looked so peaceful in its green ivy shroud, that I could not make up my mind to be afraid, but stood quietly waiting for the rain to cease. I was listening to the twittering of a pair of robins who had built in one of the windows, and thinking that the place could not be so very bad, since these pretty innocent creatures had chosen it for a place of abode, when I started as I had never done in all my life before, for I heard my name called. I turned round in a hurry, and there in the dim arched doorway stood my uncle. I was like one who has seen the Gorgon's head for a moment. Then as he smiled in his old way, I flew to him—I would have fallen at his feet, but he drew me into the cell, and then clasping me in his arms, he kissed and blessed me, calling me his own, his precious child, and weeping over me, more like a mother over her babe than a bearded man. "But how did you come here, and why do you stay in this wretched place?" I asked, when he had told me that my Aunt Joyce was still living and that the twins were well. "Come to the house where Mistress Yates will make you right welcome." "Nay, that the good woman hath done already, and the place is by no means so wretched as you think," said mine uncle. "I am not the first who hath found shelter in these walls. See here." The ruin, like other places of that kind, was made up of a little chapel where the hermit said his daily office, and a room adjoining where he had lived. Mine uncle drew me into this cell, for it was little more, and showed me a decent truckle bed with blankets and a pillow, and a table whereon was set out a lamp, tumblers, and other requisites for a meal. On the hearth was a pile of firewood, and in a little cabinet were drinking cups, a small bottle of strong waters and a jug of oil for the lamp. In short, this ghost-haunted ruin was as comfortable a little lodging as one need ask for. "But how came you here?" I asked. "On my feet, sweetheart—and I came because I heard my child was here, and I could not rest without seeing her." "But why must you hide, dear uncle?" I asked.