"If he was like your young friend at the forge, I fear not indeed," said Mr Tankardew. "That drink that accursed drink," he added, rising and approaching the stranger, who was now divesting himself of his wet outer garments. He was tall, as we have said, and his figure was slight and graceful; he wore a thick black beard and moustache, and had something of a military air; his eyes were piercing and restless, and seemed to take in at a glance and comprehend whatever they rested on. But what was there in him that seemed familiar to Mrs Franklin and Mary? Had they seen him elsewhere? They felt sure that they had not, and yet his voice and face both reminded them of someone they had seen and heard before. The same thing seemed to strike Mr Tankardew, but, as he turned towards the young stranger, the latter started back and uttered a confused exclamation of astonishment. The old man also was now strangely moved, he muttered aloud: "It must be--no--it cannot be: yes, it surely must be;" then he seemed to restrain himself by a sudden effort, he paused for a moment, and then with two rapid strides he reached the young man, placed his left hand upon the other's lips, and seizing him by the right hand hurried him out of the kitchen before another word could be spoken. Poor Mrs Franklin and her daughter looked on in astonishment, hardly knowing what to say or think of this extraordinary proceeding, but their host reassured them at once. "Never fear, ma'am, the old mayster couldn't hurt a fly; it'll be all right, take my word for it; there's summut strange as _we_ can't make out. I think I sees a little into it, but it is not for me to speak if the mayster wants to keep things secret. It'll all turn out right in the end, you may be sure. The old mayster's been getting a bit of a shake of late, but it is a shake of the right sort. He's been coming out of some of his odd ways and giving his mind to better things. He's had his heart broke once, but it seems to me as he's been getting it mended again." For the next half hour, the farmer, his wife, and daughter were busy about their home concerns, and their two guests were left to their own meditations. At last a distant door opened, and Mr Tankardew appeared followed by the young stranger. By the flickering fire Mrs Franklin thought she saw the traces of tears on both faces, and there was a strange light in the old man's eyes which she had not seen there before. "Let me introduce you to a young friend and an old friend in one," he said, addressing the ladies; "this is Mr John Randolph, a great traveller." Mrs Franklin said some kind words expressive of her pleasure in seeing the gratification Mr Tankardew felt in this renewal of acquaintance.