A cautious rat-tat on the glass of one of the windows brought him out of his reveries with a start. He went to the window without a moment's hesitation, held the candle high and saw a face looking in at him that he did not recognize for a moment. It was a frightened and shamed face. The eyes met his for a fraction of a second and then shifted their glance. "James Hammond!" exclaimed Mr. Starkley. "Of all people!" He set the candle on the table and pushed up the lower sash of the window, letting in a gust of cold wind that extinguished the light behind him. He could see the bulk of his untimely visitor against the vague starlight. "Come in, James," he said. "By the window or the door, as you like." "Thank you, Mr. Starkley," said Hammond in guarded tones. "The window will do. No strangers about, I suppose? Just the family?" "Only my wife and daughters," replied the farmer, and turned to relight the candle. Jim Hammond got quickly across the sill, pulled the sash down, and after it the green-linen shade. He stood near the wall, twirling his hat in his hand and shuffling his feet. When Mr. Starkley turned to him, he swallowed hard, glanced up and then as swiftly down again. "Queer time to make a call," said Hammond at last. "Near three o'clock, Mr. Starkley. I was glad to see your light at the window. I was scared to tap on the window, at first, for fear you'd send me away." "Send you away?" queried the farmer. "Why did you fear that, Jim? You, or any other friend, are welcome at this house at any hour of the day or night. But I must admit that your visit has taken me by surprise. I thought you were far away from this peaceful and lonely country, my boy--far away in Flanders." The blood flushed over Jim's face, and he stared at the farmer. "You thought I was in Flanders," he said. "In Flanders--me! So you don't know about me, Mr. Starkley? Peter didn't tell you about me? That--that's impossible. Don't you know--and every one else?" "I don't know what you are talking about," replied Mr. Starkley, as he pushed Jim into an armchair. "I can see that you are tired, however, and in distress of some sort. Why are you here, Jim--and why are you not in uniform? Tell me--and if I can help you in any way you may be sure that I will. Rest here and I'll get you something to eat. I did not notice at first how bad you look, Jim." "Never mind the food!" muttered young Hammond. "I'm not hungry, sir--not to matter, that is. But I'm dog-tired. I've been hiding about in the woods and in people's barns for a long time--and walking miles and miles. I--you say you don't know--I am a deserter--and worse." "You didn't go to France with your regiment? You deserted?" "I didn't go anywhere with it. Why didn't Peter tell you? I came home on pass--and gave them the slip. I--Peter was sent here to fetch me back. And he didn't tell you! And you thought I was in France! I came here because I was ashamed to go home."