the tree. He was so cold from the water that he could not feel his numb feet. His trousers were soaked to the knees and his cloak was also wet on the bottom. At times, he thought that he would lose his grip on the branches due to his frozen fingers. Slowly, he made his way down out of the tree and retraced his steps along the creek. He soon came to the road and hurried north, away from the estate.
The fog had lifted, but it would be dark before long and it appeared that John would spend another hungry and cold night out in the elements. With the fog lifted, John noticed in the lengthening shadows that the field he was passing was full of ripened corn. Gratefully, he hobbled to the field and picked an ear and hurriedly removed the outside leaves. He devoured the corn rapidly and picked another and another until he is hunger was satisfied. It was only then that he realized that it may have been the first time that he had taken something that was not his own. He then thought of a poor farmer who had 'borrowed' a chicken and the harshness with which he had dealt with him.
In the twilight he could see a barn beyond the field of corn and he was drawn to it despite the possibility of dogs. The barn didn't have any animals in it, but contained large amounts of straw. John was surprised at his own excitement at the prospect of sleeping in a bed of straw. It would be a soft bed and warmer than being outside.
He slept well and rose before daylight so that he could be on the road before being seen. When he tried to put his boots on, his feet were swollen and he could not manage it. Walking barefoot was not a good option, but he thought of a solution. Using his knife, he cut off the lower section of his cloak and tied it to his feet. He admitted to himself that he now looked like a beggar, but the cloth felt much better than the boots had. He carried the boots with him, hoping that his feet would feel better in a few days.
Passing through the field again, he picked some ears for breakfast and saved some for lunch, but by dinner time, he was very hungry and fatigued. After spending another cold night in a wooded area, he continued his walk. When he passed a stream that day, he was surprised by the image that was projected back at himself in the water. His hair was unkempt and whiskers were covering his face. He looked down at his clothing and saw a tattered cloak and ragged cloth where there should be shoes. He wasn't sure that he recognized himself and wondered whether he would trust someone that looked that way.
He saw that he was nearing a village and determined that he would ask some peasants for help, perhaps he would have more success. Near the village, just outside the woods, stood a small stone cottage with a thatched roof. The road that John was on passed close to the door of the cottage. As he approached the cottage, he thought of Easton-on-the-hill and the cottage of the Eastons. The thought took him back to when he was a boy and times were more simple. For the first time in days, a slight smile crossed his lips as he thought of the fun games that he had played with Richard and Geva at their cottage. Those days seemed so long ago and a lifetime away. It was a wistful thought as he for the first time regretted loosing Richard and the Easton's from his life.
John was met at the door by an old woman. She was bent with age and the labor of years was written on her face.
'Gud dee,' John said, 'can you spare a wee amount of food. I have been walking for dees, I 'ave no muney and am very 'ungry.'
'Where did you comb from then?' asked the old woman, 'Where are you 'eaded?'
'I am from Stamford in Lincolnshire county. I 'ave been in Calais, boot I lost me 'orse in a fall.'
The old woman studied John and didn't say anything. He was filthy and ragged. His heart sank at the thought of rejection again and he lowered his head and turned back toward the road.
'Comb in then,' John heard the old woman say. 'I