In front the High Street, with the mayor's house opposite, porticoed and grand: and beyond, just where the rain-clouds were breaking, rose up out of a nest of trees, the square tower of our ancient abbey--Norton Bury's boast and pride.

On it, from a break in the clouds, came a sudden stream of light.

The stranger-lad lifted up his head to look at it.
"The rain will be over soon," I said, but doubted if he heard me.

What could he be thinking of so intently ?--a poor working lad, whom few would have given credit for thinking at all.
I do not suppose my father cast a second glance or thought on the boy, whom, from a sense of common justice, he had made take shelter beside us.

In truth, worthy man, he had no lack of matter to occupy his mind, being sole architect of a long up-hill but now thriving trade.