Ralph raised a pair of blazing eyes, then turned on his heel. He felt as though insult had been heaped upon insult. His brain seemed almost on fire when at length he stepped through the heavy portal and found himself face to face with William Menire. Ralph stared at him for several moments in astonishment. Why, of all the people in the world, should William Menire come to meet him? They had never been friends--they could scarcely be called acquaintances. William, however, did not allow him to pursue this train of thought. Springing forward at once, he grasped Ralph by the hand. "I made inquiries," he said, speaking rapidly, "and I couldn't find out that anybody was coming to meet you. And I thought you might feel a bit lonely and cheerless, for the weather is nipping cold. So I brought a warm rug with me, and I've ordered breakfast at the King's Arms; for there ain't no train till a quarter-past ten, and we'll be home by----" Then he stopped suddenly, for Ralph had burst into tears. The prison fare, the iron hand of the law, the bitter injustice he had suffered so long, had only hardened him. He had shed not a single tear during all the months of his incarceration. But this touch of human kindness from one who was almost a stranger broke him down completely, and he hid his face in his hands, and sobbed outright. William looked at him in bewilderment. "I hope I have not said anything that's hurt you?" he questioned anxiously. "No, no," Ralph said chokingly. "It's your kindness that has unmanned me for a moment. You are almost a stranger, and I have no claim upon you whatever." And he began to sob afresh. "Oh, well, if that's all, I don't mind," William said, with a cheerful smile. "You see, we are neighbours--at least we were. And if a man can't do a neighbourly deed when he has a chance, he ain't worth much." Ralph lifted his head at length, and wiped his eyes. "Pardon me for being so weak," he said. "But I didn't expect----" "Of course you didn't," William interrupted. "I knew it would be a surprise to you. But hadn't we better be going? I don't want the breakfast at the King's Arms to get cold." "A word first," Ralph said eagerly. "Are my mother and sister well?" "Well, your mother is only middling--nothing serious. But the weather's been very trying, and her appetite's nothing to speak of. And, you see, she's worried a good deal about you." "And my sister?" he interposed. "She's very well, I believe. But let's get out of sight of this place, or it'll be getting on my nerves." A quarter of an hour later they were seated in a cosy room before an appetising breakfast of steaming ham and eggs.