A broken finger-post announced that this led to a village three miles off; and thither they resolved to bend their steps.
The miles appeared so long that they sometimes thought they must have missed their road.

But at last, to their great joy, it led downwards in a steep descent, with overhanging banks over which the footpaths led; and the clustered houses of the village peeped from the woody hollow below.
It was a very small place.

The men and boys were playing at cricket on the green; and as the other folks were looking on, they wandered up and down, uncertain where to seek a humble lodging.

There was but one old man in the little garden before his cottage, and him they were timid of approaching, for he was the schoolmaster, and had 'School' written up over his window in black letters on a white board.

He was a pale, simple-looking man, of a spare and meagre habit, and sat among his flowers and beehives, smoking his pipe, in the little porch before his door.
'Speak to him, dear,' the old man whispered.
'I am almost afraid to disturb him,' said the child timidly.