Smiling at the idea that through the instrumentality of my bicycle I had been making myself known to the people of the surrounding country, I followed the man into a small bed-chamber on the ground-floor.

“Now,” said he, “the quicker you get off your wet clothes and give yourself a good rub-down the better it will be for you.  And I’ll go and see what I can do in the way of something for you to put on.”

I asked him to bring me the bag from my bicycle, and after doing so he left me.

Very soon I heard talking outside of my door, and as both my entertainers had clear, high voices, I could hear distinctly what they said.

“Go get him the corduroys,” said she.  “He’s a well-made man, but he’s no bigger than your father was.”

“The corduroys?” he said, somewhat doubtfully, I thought.

“Yes,” she replied.  “Go get them!  I should be glad to have them put to some use.”

“But what for a coat?” said he.  “There’s nothing in the house that he could get on.”

“That’s true,” said she.  “But he must have something.  You can get him the Duke’s dressing-gown.”

“What!” exclaimed the man.  “You don’t mean—­”

“Yes, I do mean,” said she.  “It’s big enough for anybody, and it’ll keep him from ketching cold.  Go fetch it!”

In a short time there was a knock at my door, and the little man handed me in a pair of yellow corduroy trousers and a large and gaudy dressing-gown.  “There!” said he.  “They’ll keep you warm until your own clothes dry.”

With a change of linen from my bag, which had fortunately kept its contents dry, the yellow trousers, and a wonderful dressing-gown, made of some blue stuff embroidered with gold and lined throughout with crimson satin, I made a truly gorgeous appearance.  But it struck me that it would be rather startling to a beholder were I to appear barefooted in such raiment, for my shoes and stockings were as wet as the rest of my clothes.  I had not finished dressing before the little man knocked again, this time with some gray socks and a pair of embroidered slippers.

“These’ll fit you, I think,” said he, “for I’ll lay you ten shillings that I’m as big in the feet as you are.”

I would have been glad to gaze at myself in a full-length mirror, but there was no opportunity for the indulgence of such vanity; and before leaving the room I sat down for a moment to give a few thoughts to the situation.  My mind first reverted to the soaked condition of my garments and the difficulty of getting them dry enough for me to put them on and continue my journey.  Then I found that I had dropped the subject and was thinking of the slender girl, wondering if she had really hurt herself very much, congratulating myself that I had been fortunate enough to be on hand to help her in her need, and considering what a plight she would have been in if she had been caught in that terrible rain and utterly unable to get herself to shelter.