Part 10 (2/2)
It all pa.s.sed in a second's time and then he confronted the man as a complete stranger.
There was nothing remarkable about him. He was poorly dressed and carried a small bundle. He looked cold and tired. Philip, who never could resist the mute appeal of distress in any form, reached out his hand and said kindly, ”Come in, my brother, you look cold and weary.
Come in and sit down before the fire, and we'll have a bite of lunch. I was just beginning to think of having something to eat, myself.”
Philip's wife looked a little remonstrance, but Philip did not see it, and wheeling an easy chair before the fire he made the man sit down, and pulling up a rocker he placed himself opposite.
The stranger seemed a little surprised at the action of the minister, but made no resistance. He took off his hat and disclosed a head of hair white as snow, and said, in a voice that sounded singularly sweet and true:
”You do me much honor, sir. The fire feels good this chilly evening, and the food will be very acceptable. And I have no doubt you have a good warm bed that I could occupy for the night.”
Philip stared hard at his unexpected guest, and his wife who had started out of the room to get the lunch, shook her head vigorously as she stood behind the visitor, as a sign that her husband should refuse such a strange request. He was taken aback a little, and he looked puzzled. The words were uttered in the utmost simplicity.
”Why, yes, we can arrange that all right,” he said. ”There is a spare room, and--excuse me a moment while I go and help to get our lunch.”
Philip's wife was telegraphing to him to come into the other room and he obediently got up and went.
”Now, Philip,” she whispered when they were out in the dining-room, ”you know that is a risky thing to do. You are all the time inviting all kinds of characters in here. We can't keep this man all night. Who ever heard of such a thing as a perfect stranger coming out with a request like that? I believe the man is crazy. It certainly will not do to let him stay here all night.”
Philip looked puzzled.
”I declare it is strange! He doesn't appear like an ordinary tramp. But somehow I don't think he's crazy. Why shouldn't we let him have the bed in the room off the east parlor. I can light the fire in the stove there and make him comfortable.”
”But we don't know who he is. You let your sympathies run away with your judgment.”
”Well, little woman, let me go in and talk with him a while. You get the lunch, and we'll see about the rest afterward.”
So he went back and sat down again. He was hardly seated when his visitor said:
”If your wife objects to my staying here to-night, of course, I don't wish to. I don't feel comfortable to remain where I'm not welcome.”
”Oh, you're perfectly welcome,” said Philip, hastily, with some embarra.s.sment, while his strange visitor went on:
”I'm not crazy, only a little odd, you know. Perfectly harmless. It will be perfectly safe for you to keep me over night.”
The man spread his thin hands out before the fire, while Philip sat and watched him with a certain fascination new to his interest in all sorts and conditions of men.
Mrs. Strong brought in a substantial lunch of cold meat, bread and b.u.t.ter, milk and fruit, and then placed it on a table in front of the open fire, where he and his remarkable guest ate like hungry men.
It was after this lunch had been eaten and the table removed that a scene occurred which would be incredible if its reality and truthfulness did not compel us to record it as a part of the life of Philip Strong.
No one will wish to deny the power and significance of this event as it is unfolded in the movement of this story.
CHAPTER XI
”I heard your sermon this morning,' said Philip's guest while Mrs.
Strong was removing the small table to the dining-room.
<script>