CHAPTER XIII.
HOME AT LAST "I will arise and go to my father." "Ach! ein Schicksal droht, Und es droht nicht lange! Auf der holden Wange Brennt ein boeses Roth!"-- TIEDGE.
Eric Williams pursued his disconsolate way to the station, and found that his money only just sufficed to get him something to eat during the day, and carry him third class by the parliamentary train to Charlesbury, the little station where he had to take the branch line to Ayrton.
He got into the carriage, and sat in the far corner, hiding himself from notice as well as he could.

The weary train--( it carried poor people for the most part, so, of course it could matter but little how tedious or slow it was!)--the weary train, stopping at every station, and often waiting on the rail until it had been passed by trains that started four or five hours after it,--dragged its slow course through the fair counties of England.

Many people got in and out of the carriage, which was generally full, and some of them tried occasionally to enter into conversation with him.

But poor Eric was too sick and tired, and his heart was too full to talk much, and he contented himself with civil answers to the questions put to him, dropping the conversation as soon as he could.
At six in the evening the train stopped at Charlesbury, and he got down.
"Ticket," said the station-man.
Eric gave it, turning his head away, for the man knew him well from having often seen him there.

It was no use; the man looked hard at him, and then, opening his eyes wide, exclaimed, "Well, I never! what, Master Williams of Fairholm, can that be you ?" "Hush, John, hush! yes, I am Eric Williams.