“Anything you want, friend?  Come up and ring the bell if you want to get in and know us, instead of standing there on the walk catching cold and making us wonder who you are.”

In response to this frank and informal invitation the figure came forward and slowly mounted the steps of the porch.  As the face came into view more clearly, Philip started and fell back a little.

It was not because the face was that of an enemy, nor because it was repulsive, nor because he recognized an old acquaintance.  It was a face he had never to his knowledge seen before.  Yet the impulse to start back before it seemed to spring from the recollection of just such a countenance moving over his spirit when he was in prayer or in trouble.  It all passed in a second’s time and then he confronted the man as a complete stranger.

There was nothing remarkable about him.  He was poorly dressed and carried a small bundle.  He looked cold and tired.  Philip, who never could resist the mute appeal of distress in any form, reached out his hand and said kindly, “Come in, my brother, you look cold and weary.  Come in and sit down before the fire, and we’ll have a bite of lunch.  I was just beginning to think of having something to eat, myself.”

Philip’s wife looked a little remonstrance, but Philip did not see it, and wheeling an easy chair before the fire he made the man sit down, and pulling up a rocker he placed himself opposite.

The stranger seemed a little surprised at the action of the minister, but made no resistance.  He took off his hat and disclosed a head of hair white as snow, and said, in a voice that sounded singularly sweet and true: 

“You do me much honor, sir.  The fire feels good this chilly evening, and the food will be very acceptable.  And I have no doubt you have a good warm bed that I could occupy for the night.”

Philip stared hard at his unexpected guest, and his wife who had started out of the room to get the lunch, shook her head vigorously as she stood behind the visitor, as a sign that her husband should refuse such a strange request.  He was taken aback a little, and he looked puzzled.  The words were uttered in the utmost simplicity.

“Why, yes, we can arrange that all right,” he said.  “There is a spare room, and—­excuse me a moment while I go and help to get our lunch.”  Philip’s wife was telegraphing to him to come into the other room and he obediently got up and went.

“Now, Philip,” she whispered when they were out in the dining-room, “you know that is a risky thing to do.  You are all the time inviting all kinds of characters in here.  We can’t keep this man all night.  Who ever heard of such a thing as a perfect stranger coming out with a request like that?  I believe the man is crazy.  It certainly will not do to let him stay here all night.”

Philip looked puzzled.

“I declare it is strange!  He doesn’t appear like an ordinary tramp.  But somehow I don’t think he’s crazy.  Why shouldn’t we let him have the bed in the room off the east parlor.  I can light the fire in the stove there and make him comfortable.”