He paused, and looked round, as if he had forgotten where he was; not
observing Giles, who was of the color of his environment. The latter
advanced into the light. The gentleman held up his hand and came
towards Giles, the two meeting half-way.

"I have lost my way," said the stranger. "Perhaps you can put me in
the path again." He wiped his forehead with the air of one suffering
under an agitation more than that of simple fatigue.

"The turnpike-road is over there," said Giles "I don't want the turnpike-road," said the gentleman, impatiently. "I
came from that. I want Hintock House. Is there not a path to it
across here?"

"Well, yes, a sort of path. But it is hard to find from this point.
I'll show you the way, sir, with great pleasure."

"Thanks, my good friend. The truth is that I decided to walk across
the country after dinner from the hotel at Sherton, where I am staying
for a day or two. But I did not know it was so far."

"It is about a mile to the house from here."

They walked on together. As there was no path, Giles occasionally
stepped in front and bent aside the underboughs of the trees to give
his companion a passage, saying every now and then when the twigs, on
being released, flew back like whips, "Mind your eyes, sir." To which
the stranger replied, "Yes, yes," in a preoccupied tone.