e unlucky company had straggled into the smithy,
which was only a _few_ yards from the swollen stream. Among these was
Mark, partially sobered by the accident, and dripping from head to foot.

"Here's some capital stuff to stave off a cold," he said, addressing
Mrs Franklin and her daughter, whose faces were visible in the forge
light: at the same time he rilled the cover of a small flask with
spirits. "Come, let us be as jolly as we can under the circumstances."

"Thank you," said Mrs Franklin; "perhaps a very little mixed with water
might be prudent, as Mary, I fear, is very wet."

Mark stretched out the cup towards her, but before a drop could be taken
the tall stranger had stepped forward, and snatching it, had emptied its
contents on the glowing coals. Up there shot a brilliant dazzling flame
to the smoky roof, and in that vivid blaze Mrs Franklin and Mary both
recognised in their timely helper none other than Mr Esau Tankardew.

CHAPTER FOUR.

A MYSTERIOUS STRANGER.

"This way, this way," said Mr Tankardew, utterly unmoved by the
expression of angry astonishment on the face of Mark Rothwell at the
sudden conversion of his cup of liquid fire into harmless flame--"Come
this way, come this way, Mrs and Miss Franklin: Tom, give me the
lantern, I'll take the ladies to Sam Hodges' farm, and do you be so good
as to see this young gentleman across to the `Wheatsheaf'; Jones will
look well after them all, I know."

So saying, he offered his arm to Mrs Franklin, and bade Mary follow
close behind.

"It will be all right, madam," he added, seeing a little hesitation on
the part of his companion; "you may trust an old man to keep you out of
harm's way: there, let me go first with the lantern; now, two steps and
you are over the stile: the path is rather narrow, you must keep close
to the hedge: just over three fields and we shall be there."

Not a word was uttered as they followed their guide. Mrs Franklin
lifted up her heart in silent praise for their preservation, and in
prayer for present direction. Backward and forward swayed the lantern,
just revealing snatches of hedge and miry path. At last the deep
barking of a dog told that they were not far off from a dwelling: the
next minute Mr Tankardew exclaimed, "Here we are;" and the light showed
them that they were come to a little gate in a paling fence.

"Hollo, Sam," shouted out their guide: the dog's barking was instantly
changed into a joyful whine.