It is but a step to the mill." He seemed so gentle and straightforward, and the prospects of a bed and an ample meal were so attractive, that we went with him without a thought of ill.
The mill stood on rising ground just off the village street.

I have never passed under the gaunt arms of a mill since without a feeling of discomfort.
The miller's house, however, was not in the mill itself, but just alongside, under its great bony wings.

There was a light in the window, and a sweet wholesome smell all about.
He introduced us to his wife, a very quiet woman, and much less cheerful and hospitable than himself, and bade her hasten the supper and prepare a bed, and we sat and talked while they were getting ready.

He showed great concern, too, on Le Marchant's account, and insisted on his wife applying a boiling lotion of herbs, which very soon made his face look as bad as anyone could have wished; and, in consequence of some hasty words the sufferer dropped during this infliction, I found it necessary to explain that we were from the Channel Islands, but good Englishmen, although our native speech was more akin to French.

The old miller was very much interested, and asked many questions about the Islands and the land and crops there.
We had an excellent hot supper, with home-brewed ale to drink, and then the old man read a chapter out of the Bible, and prayed at length--for us, and for peace and prosperity, and much more besides.
Then we had a smoke, and he showed us to the most comfortable bed I had seen since I left home.
Le Marchant was not in the best of humours.