She had a sweet sad face, with grey banded hair, and though her dress was very plain, almost poor, yet it was very neat. A younger woman, with a baby in her arms, stood by the fire. "It's an awful storm for such little children to be out in. Tell us all about it, my lad, and how you met our Michael!" said the elder woman, lifting Kit on her knee. Thus encouraged, Ben began at the beginning and told all about the excursion, the bird's nest, the meeting with Michael, and the loss of the "coach." The women were loud in their sympathy, and said it was a strange thing that it should be stolen so quickly. "Directly I've taken little Kit home, I shall run and have another look round just in case someone has moved it and it is still somewhere about," said Ben. "Yes, it would be worth while to do that," she answered. While they were speaking, the sound of a hollow cough was heard in the next room, and a feeble voice asked-- "Who is that?" "That's John," said the elder woman, rising and going towards the next room. "Who is John? your little boy?" asked Ben. "He was my little boy once, he's a big boy now, and he's very ill, but that would be nothing if I knew he was happy." She returned in a minute, saying, "John wanted to see the children; he has always been fond of children." Mrs. Craig lifted Kit up into the next room, and Ben followed. The sick man lay on a little bed in one corner; everything around was comfortable and neat, and a few flowers stood beside him in a tumbler of water. His face was sallow and sunken, and his dark hair, which was long and straight, was brushed off his forehead; but he had a pleasant, kindly smile, and he greeted the children warmly. "I was always fond of little children," he said, shaking his head from side to side, and speaking with difficulty, for his breath was short and troublesome. "The Lord said 'except ye become as little children.' I wish _I_ could do that." He went on to speak to them as well as he was able, asking them how they were caught in the storm, and so on. "They met Michael," said the mother, "and he sent them here. Michael has a kind heart though he speaks sternly when on duty." Ben was standing by the window, and now and then casting anxious glances out at the storm, which seemed to be subsiding. Suddenly he ran towards the door crying, "There's father passing." And so it was; Mr. Gray, with rapid strides, was passing up the hill, and heeding little the rain and storm. "Call him in, he is looking for you, no doubt," said Mrs. Craig, and Ben ran out and brought him in. He, in his turn, was surprised, and very thankful to find the children safe. Ben's heart beat very quick at the thought of the perambulator, and he anxiously waited the moment when he should speak of it. Meanwhile, Mr. Gray, after hearing about the children, was having a little talk with the mother, who was telling him about her sick son. CHAPTER XI. THE SICK MAN AND THE FALLEN FOE.