Of course! This must be one of the hoppers' houses, and he had
got back into Kent or East Sussex somehow. Where had he been
lately? Not in Kent, or even in England. He could remember only
a confused medley of traveling by land and water, and a huge
home-sickness. Never mind, all's well that ends well. Here he was
back in Kent surely, and in a hoppers' house. What time of year
was it? That rather puzzled him. For was not that a mass of
cherry-blossom not twenty yards from the tiny doorway? Why should
they put up a hoppers' house before September? Why in the world
should they put it up when cherries were in flower?

Never mind, he was in Kent; he would sleep ever so much better
now for knowing that. He put the cup of water that he found
beside him to his lips. Then he closed his eyes and slept anew.
When he woke again, hours after, a big man in flannel shirt and
wide-brimmed grey hat was standing by a wood fire outside the
doorway. It seemed to be just growing dark. The man was cooking
something in a pan over the fire. As he turned, Benson knew his
face. This was his old school and City friend John Haslar. He had
not seen him for years he could not remember how many.

'Hullo, Jack!' he said.

'Hullo!' said John with a start. 'That's much better. You've
slept well this last time! How do you feel now?'

'Oh, better, much better,' said Benson. 'But I've had it badly.
Influenza, isn't it?'

John looked at him with a question in his eyes, but did not
answer. 'I think you'll do now,' he said. 'You must take some
nourishment and your medicine, and then try to sleep again. I'm
your man for a talk in the morning, if only you get a good night.
I didn't come eighty miles to see you for nothing, I can tell
you.'

Benson felt weak and weary, and did as he was told. Just as he
closed his eyes he said, 'I'm glad to be back in Kent ever so
glad.' He sighed a little sigh of relief. 'I can't think where
I've been all this time. I am really back again, am I not?' He
did not wait for an answer, but fell asleep.

He woke up once in the night, and saw John sitting by the fire
and smoking his pipe.

"This is a hoppers' house, isn't it?" he began.

John turned round and looked at him with interest and pity. 'It
looks very much like it,' he said.

Benson gave a contented sigh, and turned over on his side again.

When he awoke in the morning his strength was really beginning to
come again. He was hungry for breakfast. He caught