"Why, sir, to tell you the honest truth," said the groom, "I've often seen him, but I don't know much about him. He lived down in yon part of the village"--pointing with his whip--"with his two sisters. One of the women appears to be good enough, and nobody says anything against her, but the other--well, sir, she's been a pretty bad lot, and that's the truth. They tell me they used to do all they could to keep her to home, but she wouldn't stay. She's at home now, but she was down in the city nigh all last winter. Her brother didn't try to make her stay at home, and he couldn't make her stay if he tried--she's just a bad lot, and that's all there is of it. They do say she's different now, but you know what that amounts to with that kind." Gilderman laughed. The man, now that he was started, was disposed to be loquacious. The groom shot a quick look at him. They had already reached the top of the hill. The declivity upon the side stretched away down to the town, and in the extreme distance Gilderman could see the low, flat roof of the station. He looked at his watch; it was twenty-seven minutes past two. "I'll get you there in good time, sir," said the groom. Then he chirruped to the horse. The animal gathered itself up with a start and then sped away down the road past the scattered houses and the embryo streets staked out across the open fields. "Did you ever see the Man yourself, John?" said Gilderman, suddenly. "Yes, sir," said the groom. "Me and Jackson was down in the town last Wednesday night a week ago. He was teaching there in front of an old frame church." "What sort of looking man is He?" said Gilderman; and John, the groom, answered almost exactly as Latimer-Moire had done one time before. "Oh, I don't know; He just looks like any other man." Then they were at the platform of the railroad station. Gilderman jumped out of the cart. He drew a dollar out of his pocket and gave it to the man. "Thankee, sir," said the groom, touching his hat with the finger that held the whip. He waited a little while till Gilderman had walked away across the platform, then he turned the horse and drove away. There were a few scattered people waiting for the train, which was late. The day, which had been so clear in the morning, had become overcast and threatening. The wind had become cold and raw. Gilderman turned up the collar of his overcoat as he walked up and down the platform.