* * * * *

For the explanation of the whole thing is as foolishly obvious as was that of the singing that the three had heard in the suburbs of Peterborough.  Obviously a couple of tramps had turned into this stable for shelter.  Perhaps the girl was the man’s daughter; perhaps his wife; perhaps neither.  Plainly they had no right there—­and that would explain the embarrassed silence of the two:  they knew they were trespassing, and feared to be turned away.  Perhaps already they had been turned away from the village inn.  But the girl was obviously tired out, and the man had determined to risk it.

That, then, was the whole affair—­commonplace, and even a little sordid.  And yet Frank thought that it was worth writing down!

CHAPTER VI

An extract, taken by permission, from a few pages of Frank Guiseley’s diary.  These pages were written with the encouragement of Dom Hildebrand Maple, O.S.B., and were sent to him later at his own request.

“...  He told me a great many things that surprised me.  For instance, he seemed to know all about certain ideas that I had had, before I told him of them, and said that I was not responsible, and he picked out one or two other things that I had said, and told me that these were much more serious....

“I went to confession to him on Friday morning, in the church.  He did not say a great deal then, but he asked if I would care to talk to him afterwards.  I said I would, and went to him in the parlor after dinner.  The first thing that happened was that he asked me to tell him as plainly as I could anything that had happened to me—­in my soul, I mean—­since I had left Cambridge.  So I tried to describe it.

“I said that at first things went pretty well in my soul, and that it was only bodily things that troubled me—­getting fearfully tired and stiff, being uncomfortable, the food, the sleeping, and so on.  Then, as soon as this wore off I met the Major and Gertie.  I was rather afraid of saying all that I felt about these; but he made me, and I told him how extraordinarily I seemed to hate them sometimes, how I felt almost sick now and then when the Major talked to me and told me stories....  The thing that seemed to torment me most during this time was the contrast between Cambridge and Merefield and the people there, and the company of this pair; and the only relief was that I knew I could, as a matter of fact, chuck them whenever I wanted and go home again.  But this relief was taken away from me as soon as I understood that I had to keep with them, and do my best somehow to separate them.  Of course, I must get Gertie back to her people some time, and till that’s done it’s no good thinking about anything else.